with involuntary reverence, and kissed the Signora's hand--

"May our Lady reward your noble heart!" said she: "and now my mission is
ended, and my earthly goal is won. Add only, lady, to your inestimable
favours one more. These jewels"--and Ursula drew from her robe a casket,
touched the spring, and the lid flying back, discovered jewels of great
size and the most brilliant water,--"these jewels," she continued,
laying the casket at Nina's feet, "once belonging to the princely house
of Thoulouse, are valueless to me and mine. Suffer me to think that they
are transferred to one whose queenly brow will give them a lustre it
cannot borrow."

"How!" said Nina, colouring very deeply; "think you, madam, my kindness
can be bought? What woman's kindness ever was? Nay, nay--take back the
gifts, or I shall pray you to take back your boy."

Ursula was astonished and confounded: to her experience such abstinence
was a novelty, and she scarcely knew how to meet it. Nina perceived her
embarrassment with a haughty and triumphant smile, and then, regaining
her former courtesy of demeanour, said, with a grave sweetness--

"The Tribune's hands are clean,--the Tribune's wife must not be
suspected. Rather, madam, should I press upon you some token of exchange
for the fair charge you have committed to me. Your jewels hereafter may
profit the boy in his career: reserve them for one who needs them."

"No, lady," said Ursula, rising and lifting her eyes to heaven;--"they
shall buy masses for his mother's soul; for him I shall reserve a
competence when his years require it. Lady, accept the thanks of a
wretched and desolate heart. Fare you well!"

She turned to quit the room, but with so faltering and weak a step, that
Nina, touched and affected, sprung up, and with her own hand guided
the old woman across the room, whispering comfort and soothing to her;
while, as they reached the door, the boy rushed forward, and, clasping
Ursula's robe, sobbed out--"Dear dame, not one farewell for your little
Angelo! Forgive him all he has cost you! Now, for the first time, I feel
how wayward and thankless I have been."

The old woman caught him in her arms, and kissed him passionately; when
the boy, as if a thought suddenly struck him, drew forth the purse she
had given him and said, in a choked and scarce articulate voice,--"And
let this, dearest dame, go in masses for my poor father's soul; for he
is dead, too, you know!"

These words seemed to