Again Corona blushed.  She would have given anything to go, but she felt that it was impossible.

“I would like to go,” she said.  “If one could come back the same day.”

“You did before,” remarked Saracinesca, bluntly.

“But it was late when I reached home, and I spent no time at all there.”

“I know you did not,” laughed the old man.  “You gave Gigi Secchi some money, and then fled precipitately.”

“Indeed I was afraid you would suddenly come upon me, and I ran away,” answered Corona, laughing in her turn, as the dark blood rose to her olive cheeks.

“As my amiable ancestors did in the same place when anybody passed with a full purse,” suggested Saracinesca.  “But we have improved a little since then.  We would have asked you to breakfast.  Will you come?”

“I do not like to go alone; I cannot, you see.  Sister Gabrielle could never ride up that hill on a mule.”

“There is a road for carriages,” said the Prince.  “I will propose something in the way of a compromise.  I will bring Giovanni down with me and our team of mountain horses.  Those great beasts of yours cannot do this kind of work.  We will take you and Sister Gabrielle up almost as fast as you could go by the bridle-path.”  “And back on the same day?” asked Corona.

“No; on the next day.”

“But I do not see where the compromise is,” she replied.  “Sister Gabrielle is at once the compromise and the cause that you will not be compromised.  I beg her pardon—­”

Both ladies laughed.

“I will be very glad to go,” said the Sister.  “I do not see that there is anything extraordinary in the Prince’s proposal.”

“My Sister,” returned Saracinesca, “you are on the way to saintship; you already enjoy the beatific vision; you see with a heavenly perspicuity.”

“It is a charming proposition,” said Corona; “but in that case you will have to come down the day before.”  She was a little embarrassed.

“We will not invade the cloister,” answered the Prince.  “Giovanni and I will spend the night in concocting pretty speeches, and will appear armed with them at dawn before your gates.”

“There is room in Astrardente,” replied Corona.  “You shall not lack hospitality for a night.  When will you come?”

“To-morrow evening, if you please.  A good thing should be done quickly, in order not to delay doing it again.”

“Do you think I would go again?”

Saracinesca fixed his black eyes on Corona’s, and gazed at her some seconds before he answered.

“Madam,” he said at last, very gravely, “I trust you will come again and stay longer.”

“You are very good,” returned Corona, quietly.  “At All events, I will go this first time.”

“We will endeavour to show our gratitude by making you comfortable,” answered the Prince, resuming his former tone.  “You shall have a mass in the morning and a litany in the evening.  We are godless fellows up there, but we have a priest.”