n the convent, and Lucrezia was only too pleased to spend
some hours every morning, idly sitting in the great chair, while the
young painter talked to her and told her stories while he painted. She
counted the hours until it was time to go back, and grew happier each
day as the Madonna's face grew more and more beautiful.

Surely there was no one so good or so handsome as this wonderful
artist. Lucrezia could not bear to think how dull her life would be
when he was gone. Then one day, when it happened that the abbess was
called away and they were alone, Filippo told Lucrezia that he loved
her and could not live without her; and although she was frightened at
first, she soon grew happy, and told him that she was ready to go with
him wherever he wished. But what would the good nuns think of it? Would
they ever let her go? No; they must think of some other plan.

To-morrow was the great festa of Prato, when all the nuns walked in
procession to see the holy centola, or girdle, which the Madonna had
given to St. Thomas. Lucrezia must take care to walk on the outside of
the procession, and to watch for a touch upon the arm as she passed.

The festa day dawned bright and clear, and all Prato was early astir.
Procession after procession wound its way to the church where the relic
was to be shown, and the crowd grew denser every moment. Presently came
the nuns of Santa Margherita. A figure in the crowd pressed nearer.
Lucrezia felt a touch upon her arm, and a strong hand clasped hers. The
crowd swayed to and fro, and in an instant the two figures disappeared.
No one noticed that the young novice was gone, and before the nuns
thought of looking for their charge Lucrezia was on her way to
Florence, her horse led by the painter whom she loved, while his good
friend Fra Diamante rode beside her.

Then the storm burst. Lucrezia's father was furious, the good nuns were
dismayed, and every one shook their heads over this last adventure of
the Florentine painter.

But luckily for Filippo, the great Cosimo still stood his friend and
helped him through it all. He it was who begged the Pope to allow Fra
Filippo to marry Lucrezia (for monks, of course, were never allowed to
marry), and the Pope, too, was kind and granted the request, so that
all went well.

Now indeed was Lucrezia as happy as the day was long, and when the
spring returned once more to Florence, a baby Filippo came with the
violets and lilies.

'How wilt thou know us