loudly.

Day was high when he returned to his lodgings, impatient for a word from
Fulvia. None had come; and as the hours passed he yielded to the most
disheartening fancies. His wretchedness was increased by the thought
that he had once inflicted on her such suspense he was now enduring; and
he went so far as to wonder if this were her revenge for Vercelli. But
if the past was intolerable to consider the future was all baffling
fears. His immediate study was how to see her; and this her continued
silence seemed to refuse him. The extremity of her plight was his best
ally; yet here again anxiety suggested that his having been the witness
of her humiliation must insensibly turn her against him. Never perhaps
does a man show less knowledge of human nature than in speculating on
the conduct of his beloved; and every step in the labyrinth of his
conjectures carried Odo farther from the truth. This rose on him at
nightfall, in the shape of a letter slipped in his hand by a lay-sister
as he crossed the square before his lodgings. He stepped to the light of
the nearest shrine and read the few words in a tumult. "This being
Friday, no visitors are admitted to the convent; but I entreat you to
come to me tomorrow an hour before benediction." A postcript added: "It
is the hour when visitors are most frequent."

He saw her meaning in a flash: his best chance of speaking with her was
in a crowd, and his heart bounded at the significance of her admission.
Now indeed he felt himself lord of the future. Nothing counted but that
he was to see her. His horizon was narrowed to the bars through which
her hand would greet him; yet never had the world appeared so vast.

Long before the hour appointed he was at the gate of Santa Chiara. He
asked to speak with Sister Veronica and the portress led him to the
parlour. Several nuns were already behind the grate, chatting with a
group of fashionable ladies and their gallants; but Fulvia was not among
them. In a few moments the portress returned and informed Odo that
Sister Veronica was indisposed and unable to leave her cell. His heart
sank, and he asked if she had sent no message. The portress answered in
the negative, but added that the abbess begged him to come to her
parlour; and at this his hopes took wing again.

The abbess's parlour was preceded by a handsome antechamber, where Odo
was bidden to wait. It was doubtless the Reverend Mother's hour for
receiving company, for through the doo