er all, the marchesa's fault that Nobili had left her? Why had
the marchesa thrown her into Count Marescotti's company? Why had the
marchesa offered her in marriage to Count Marescotti without telling
her? At this moment Enrica loathed her. Something of all this passed
over her pallid face as she turned her eyes beseechingly toward Fra
Pacifico. The marchesa watched her with secret rage.

Was this silly, love-sick child about to annihilate the labors of her
life? Was this daughter of her husband's cousin, Antonio--a collateral
branch--about to consign the Guinigi name to the tomb? She could have
lifted up her voice and cursed her where she stood.

"Enrica, I have sent for you to ask you a question." Spite of her
efforts to be calm, there was a strange ring in her voice that made
Enrica look up at her. "Enrica, do you still love Count Nobili?"

"This is not a fair question," interrupted Fra Pacifico, coming to
the rescue of the distressed Enrica, who sat speechless before her
terrible aunt. "I know she still loves him. The love of a heart like
hers is not to be destroyed by such a letter as that, and the unjust
accusations it contains."

Fra Pacifico pointed with his finger to Nobili's letter lying where he
had placed it on the table. Seeing the letter, Enrica started back and
shivered.

"Is it not so, Enrica?"

The little blond head and the sad blue eyes bowed themselves gently in
response. A faint smile flitted across Enrica's face. Fra Pacifico had
spoken all her mind, which she in her weakness could not have done,
especially with her aunt's dark eyes riveted upon her.

"Then you still love Count Nobili?" The marchesa accentuated each word
with bitter emphasis.

"I do," answered Enrica, faintly.

"If Count Nobili returns here, will you marry him?"

As the marchesa spoke, Enrica trembled like a leaf. "What was she
to answer?" The little composure she had been able to assume utterly
forsook her. She who had believed that nothing was left but to die,
was suddenly called upon to live!

"O my aunt," Enrica cried, springing to her feet, "how can I look
Nobili in the face after that letter? He thinks I have deceived him."

Enrica stopped; the words seemed to choke her. With an imploring look,
she turned toward Fra Pacifico. Without knowing what she did Enrica
flung herself on the floor at his feet; she clasped his knees--she
turned her beseeching eyes into his.

"O my father, help me! Nobili is my very life.