ar
accustomed world was no longer in her choice, there gathered some of
those hard tears which just moisten elderly eyes, and she could see but
dimly a large rough hand holding a red cross, which was suddenly thrust
before her over the shoulders of the boys, while a strong guttural voice
said--

"Only four quattrini, madonna, blessing and all! Buy it. You'll find a
comfort in it now your wig's gone. Deh! what are we sinners doing all
our lives? Making soup in a basket, and getting nothing but the scum
for our stomachs. Better buy a blessing, madonna! Only four quattrini;
the profit is not so much as the smell of a danaro, and it goes to the
poor."

Monna Brigida, in dim-eyed confusion, was proceeding to the further
submission of reaching money from her embroidered scarsella, at present
hidden by her silk mantle, when the group round her, which she had not
yet entertained the idea of escaping, opened before a figure as welcome
as an angel loosing prison-bolts.

"Romola, look at me!" said Monna Brigida, in a piteous tone, putting out
both her hands.

The white troop was already moving away, with a slight consciousness
that its zeal about the head-gear had been superabundant enough to
afford a dispensation from any further demand for penitential offerings.

"Dear cousin, don't be distressed," said Romola, smitten with pity, yet
hardly able to help smiling at the sudden apparition of her kinswoman in
a genuine, natural guise, strangely contrasted with all memories of her.
She took the black drapery from her own head, and threw it over Monna
Brigida's. "There," she went on soothingly, "no one will remark you
now. We will turn down the Via del Palagio and go straight to our
house."

They hastened away, Monna Brigida grasping Romola's hand tightly, as if
to get a stronger assurance of her being actually there.

"Ah, my Romola, my dear child!" said the short fat woman, hurrying with
frequent steps to keep pace with the majestic young figure beside her;
"what an old scarecrow I am! I must be good--I mean to be good!"

"Yes, yes; buy a cross!" said the guttural voice, while the rough hand
was thrust once more before Monna Brigida: for Bratti was not to be
abashed by Romola's presence into renouncing a probable customer, and
had quietly followed up their retreat. "Only four quattrini, blessing
and all--and if there was any profit, it would all go to the poor."

Monna Brigida would have been compelled to pause,