s that might never in this life
be passed.

"Poor child! Poor flower broken by the storms of fate! But I must
reprove her. Before I give her the Blessed Sacrament she must confess
and show a full contrition."

V

Roma was lying on a bed-chair in the frescoed room which had once been
the Pope's salon. She was wearing a white dress, and it made her
unruffled brow look like alabaster. Her large eyes, which were closed,
had blue rings on the lids, and her mouth, once so rosy and so gay with
laughter and light words, was colourless as marble.

A lay Sister, in a black and white habit, moved softly about the room.
It was Bruno's widow, Elena. She was the Sister Angelica who had entered
the convent of the Sacred Heart. It was there she had buried her own
trouble until, hearing of Roma's, she had begged to be allowed to nurse
her.

A door opened and an officer, in a mixed light and dark blue uniform,
entered. It was the doctor of the regiment.

"Sleeping, Sister?"

"Yes, sir."

"Poor soul! Let her sleep as long as she can."

But at that moment Roma opened her eyes, and held out her white hand.
"Is it you, doctor?" she said with a smile.

"And how is my patient this morning? Better, I think."

"Much better. In fact, I feel no pain at all to-day."

"She never does. She never feels anything if you believe her," said
Elena.

"Tired, Sister?"

"Why should I be tired, I wonder?"

"Sitting up all night with me. Your big burden is very troublesome,
doctor."

"Tut! You mustn't talk like that."

"If all jailors were as good to their prisoners as mine are to me!"

"And if all prisoners were as good to their jailors.... But I forbid
that subject. I absolutely forbid it.... Ah, here comes your breakfast."

A soldier in uniform trousers and a linen jacket and cap had come in
with a tray on which there was a smoking basin.

"You are from Sicily, aren't you, cook?"

"Yes, from Sicily, Signora."

Roma leaned back to Elena and said in an undertone, "That's where _he_
has gone to, isn't it?"

"Some people say so, but nobody knows where he is."

"No news yet?"

"None whatever."

"Sicily must be a lovely place, cook?"

"It is, Signora. It's the loveliest place in the world."

"Last night I had such a beautiful dream, doctor. Somebody who had been
away came back, and all the church bells rang for him. I thought it was
noon, I remember, for the big gun of the Castle had just bee