“Surely you must have thought of that?” reiterated Father Rocco.

“Oh, I have often, often thought of it!” murmured the girl “I have mourned over it, and cried about it in secret for many nights past.  He said I looked pale, and ill, and out of spirits to-day, and I told him it was with thinking of that!”

“And what did he say in return?”

There was no answer.  Father Rocco looked down.  Nanina raised her head directly from his knees, and tried to turn it away again.  He took her hand and stopped her.

“Come!” he said; “speak frankly to me.  Say what you ought to say to your father and your friend.  What was his answer, my child, when you reminded him of the difference between you?”

“He said I was born to be a lady,” faltered the girl, still struggling to turn her face away, “and that I might make myself one if I would learn and be patient.  He said that if he had all the noble ladies in Pisa to choose from on one side, and only little Nanina on the other, he would hold out his hand to me, and tell them, ‘This shall be my wife.’  He said love knew no difference of rank; and that if he was a nobleman and rich, it was all the more reason why he should please himself.  He was so kind, that I thought my heart would burst while he was speaking; and my little sister liked him so, that she got upon his knee and kissed him.  Even our dog, who growls at other strangers, stole to his side and licked his hand.  Oh, Father Rocco!  Father Rocco!” The tears burst out afresh, and the lovely head dropped once more, wearily, on the priest’s knee.

Father Rocco smiled to himself, and waited to speak again till she was calmer.

“Supposing,” he resumed, after some minutes of silence, “supposing Signor Fabio really meant all he said to you—­”

Nanina started up, and confronted the priest boldly for the first time since he had entered the room.

“Supposing!” she exclaimed, her cheeks beginning to redden, and her dark blue eyes flashing suddenly through her tears “Supposing!  Father Rocco, Fabio would never deceive me.  I would die here at your feet, rather than doubt the least word he said to me!”

The priest signed to her quietly to return to the stool.  “I never suspected the child had so much spirit in her,” he thought to himself.

“I would die,” repeated Nanina, in a voice that began to falter now.  “I would die rather than doubt him.”

“I will not ask you to doubt him,” said Father Rocco, gently; “and I will believe in him myself as firmly as you do.  Let us suppose, my child, that you have learned patiently all the many things of which you are now ignorant, and which it is necessary for a lady to know.  Let us suppose that Signor Fabio has really violated all the laws that govern people in his high station and has taken you to him publicly as his wife.  You would be happy then, Nanina; but would he?  He has no father or mother to control him, it is true; but he has friends—­many