ad already thought of Zenobia in connection with the poor girl's
lodging, and I went to see her on the spot. In her husband's presence I
told her what I wanted, and asked if she could find a corner for my new
friend.

"She shall have my place," cried the worthy tailor, "if she won't mind
sleeping with my wife. I will hire a small room hard bye, and will sleep
there as long as the young lady stays."

"That's a good idea, gossip, but your wife will lose by the exchange."

"Not much," said Zenobia; and the tailor burst out laughing.

"As for her meals," he added, "she must arrange that herself."

"That's a very simple matter," said I, "Zenobia will get them and I will
pay for them."

I wrote the girl a short note, telling her of the arrangements I had
made, and charged Zenobia to take her the letter. The next day I found
her in the poor lodging with these worthy folks, looking pleased and
ravishingly pretty. I felt that I could behave well for the present, but
I sighed at the thought of the journey. I should have to put a strong
restraint on myself.

I had nothing more to do at Milan, but the count had made me promise to
spend a fortnight at St. Angelo. This was an estate belonging to him,
fifteen miles from Milan, and the count spoke most enthusiastically of
it. If I had gone away without seeing St. Angelo, he would have been
exceedingly mortified. A married brother of his lived there, and the
count often said that his brother was longing to know me. When we
returned he would no doubt let me depart in peace.

I had made up my mind to shew my gratitude to the worthy man for his
hospitality, so on the fourth day of Lent I took leave of Therese,
Greppi, and the affectionate marchioness, for two weeks, and we set out
on our way.

To my great delight the countess did not care to come. She much preferred
staying in Milan with Triulzi, who did not let her lack for anything.

We got to St. Angelo at three o'clock, and found that we were expected to
dinner.

CHAPTER XXI

An Ancient Castle--Clementine--The Fair Penitent--Lodi--
A Mutual Passion

The manorial castle of the little town of St. Angelo is a vast and
ancient building, dating back at least eight centuries, but devoid of
regularity, and not indicating the date of its erection by the style of
its architecture. The ground floor consists of innumerable small rooms, a
few large and lofty apartments, and an immense hall. The walls, which are
ful