uld refuse.

"Leave it all to me," the signora said, and laid her motherly hand on
the trembling little ones held out to her in entreaty. "We will look out
for that. Matteo shall not hurt you or Claudio. I am going to send for
Monsignor Catinari again, and you must tell him the truth this time. And
then we will see what can be done in the case. Don't look so terrified,
child. Do you think that Matteo rules the world?"

Poor little Silvia could not be reassured, for to her other terrors was
now added Monsignor Catinari's possible wrath. To her, men were objects
of terror. The doctrine of masculine supremacy, so pitilessly upheld in
Italy, was exaggerated to her mind by her brother's character; and
though she believed that help was sometimes possible, she also believed
that it often came too late, as in the case of poor Beatrice Cenci. They
might stand between her and Matteo, but if he had first killed her, what
good would it do? She had a fixed idea that he would kill her.

Monsignor Catinari was indeed much provoked when the signora told him
the true story of the little novice.

"Just see what creatures girls are!" he exclaimed. "How are we to know
if they have a vocation or not? That girl professed herself both willing
and desirous to be a nun."

He did not scold Silvia, however. When he saw her pretty frightened face
his heart relented. "You have told me a good many lies, my child," he
said, "but I forgive you, since they were not intended in malice. We
will say no more about it. I learn from the signora that this Claudio is
a good young man, so the sooner you are married the better. Cheer up: we
will have you a bride by the first week of November; and if Claudio has
such a wonderful voice, he can make his way in Rome."

The reassurances of a man were more effectual than those of a woman.

"At last I believe! at last I fear no more!" Silvia cried, throwing
herself into the arms of the Signora Fantini when the Monsignor was
gone. "Oh how beautiful the earth is! how beautiful life is!"

"We will then begin immediately to enjoy life," the signora replied.
"Collation is ready, and Nanna has bought us some of the most delicious
grapes. See how large and rich they are! One could almost slice them.
There! these black figs are like honey. Try one now, before your soup.
The macaroni that will be brought in presently was made in the
house--none of your Naples stuff, made nobody knows how or by whom. What
else Nanna has