was not what she expected, if she expected anything, but it
brought back her controlling self that had been dazed and wandering
and had left her almost helpless. She started and turned her face full
to his, but drawing back in her chair.

'What do you mean?' she asked.

'Angela!'

The appeal of love was in his voice, as he bent far forward, but she
raised her hand in warning.

'No, "Sister Giovanna," please,' she said, checking him, though
gently.

He felt the slight rebuke, and remembered that the place was public to
the community.

'It was not by chance that you took my name with the veil,' he said,
almost in a whisper. 'Did you love me then?'

'I believed that you had been dead two years,' answered the nun
slowly.

'But did you love me still, when I was dead?'

'Yes.'

She did not lower her voice, for she was not ashamed, but she looked
down. He forgot her rebuke, and called her by her old name again, that
had meant life and hope and everything to him through years of
captivity.

'Angela!' He did not heed her gesture now, nor the quick word she
spoke. 'Yes, I will call you Angela--you love me now----'

She checked him again, with more energy.

'Hush! If you cannot be reasonable, I shall go away!'

'Reasonable!'

There was contempt in his tone, but he sat upright again and said no
more.

'Listen to me,' said Sister Giovanna, finding some strength in the
small advantage she had just gained. 'I have not let you come here in
order to torment you or cheat you, and I mean to tell you the truth.
You have a right to know it, and I still have the right to tell it,
because there is nothing in it of which I am ashamed. Will you hear me
quietly, whatever I say?'

'Yes, I will. But I cannot promise not to answer, when you have done.'

'There is no answer to what I am going to say. It is to be final.'

'We shall see,' said Giovanni gravely, though with no conviction.

But the nun was satisfied, for he was clearly willing to listen. The
meeting had disturbed her peace even more than she had expected, but
she had done her best during several days to prepare herself for it,
and had found strength to decide what she must say, and to repeat it
over and over again till she knew it by heart.

'You were reported to be dead,' she began--'killed with the rest of
them. You had your share in the great military funeral, and I, and all
the world, believed that you were buried with your comrades. Your name
is engrav