A Foregone Conclusion | Page 9

are a kind of Christians," she added thoughtfully, "but there can't be
many of them left, poor things, hundreds of them executed at a time,
that way. It's perfectly sickening to read of it; and you can't help it, you
know. But they say they haven't really so much feeling as we have--not
so nervous."
She walked by the side of the young friar as he led the way to such
parts of the convent as are open to visitors, and Mr. Ferris came after
with her daughter, who, he fancied, met his attempts at talk with
sudden and more than usual hauteur. "What a fool!" he said to himself.
"Is she afraid I shall be wanting to make love to her?" and he followed
in rather a sulky silence the course of Mrs. Vervain and her guide. The
library, the chapel, and the museum called out her friendliest praises,
and in the last she praised the mummy on show there at the expense of
one she had seen in New York; but when Padre Girolamo pointed out
the desk in the refectory from which one of the brothers read while the
rest were eating, she took him to task. "Oh, but I can't think that's at all
good for the digestion, you know,--using the brain that way whilst
you're at table. I really hope you don't listen too attentively; it would be
better for you in the long run, even in a religious point of view. But
now--Byron! You must show me his cell!" The monk deprecated the
non-existence of such a cell, and glanced in perplexity at Mr. Ferris,
who came to his relief. "You couldn't have seen his cell, if he'd had one,
Mrs. Vervain. They don't admit ladies to the cloister."
"What nonsense!" answered Mrs. Vervain, apparently regarding this as
another of Mr. Ferris's pleasantries; but Padre Girolamo silently
confirmed his statement, and she briskly assailed the rule as a
disrespect to the sex, which reflected even upon the Virgin, the object,

as he was forced to allow, of their high veneration. He smiled patiently,
and confessed that Mrs. Vervain had all the reasons on her side. At the
polyglot printing-office, where she handsomely bought every kind of
Armenian book and pamphlet, and thus repaid in the only way possible
the trouble their visit had given, he did not offer to take leave of them,
but after speaking with Ferris, of whom he seemed an old friend, he led
them through the garden environing the convent, to a little pavilion
perched on the wall that defends the island from the tides of the lagoon.
A lay-brother presently followed them, bearing a tray with coffee,
toasted rusk, and a jar of that conserve of rose- leaves which is the
convent's delicate hospitality to favored guests. Mrs. Vervain cried out
over the poetic confection when Padre Girolamo told her what it was,
and her daughter suffered herself to express a guarded pleasure. The
amiable matron brushed the crumbs of the baicolo from her lap when
the lunch was ended, and fitting on her glasses leaned forward for a
better look at the monk's black- bearded face. "I'm perfectly delighted,"
she said. "You must be very happy here. I suppose you are."
"Yes," answered the monk rapturously; "so happy that I should be
content never to leave San Lazzaro. I came here when I was very young,
and the greater part of my life has been passed on this little island. It is
my home--my country."
"Do you never go away?"
"Oh yes; sometimes to Constantinople, sometimes to London and
Paris."
"And you've never been to America yet? Well now, I'll tell you; you
ought to go. You would like it, I know, and our people would give you
a very cordial reception."
"Reception?" The monk appealed once more to Ferris with a look.
Ferris broke into a laugh. "I don't believe Padre Girolamo would come
in quality of distinguished foreigner, Mrs. Vervain, and I don't think
he'd know what to do with one of our cordial receptions."
"Well, he ought to go to America, any way. He can't really know
anything about us till he's been there. Just think how ignorant the
English are of our country! You will come, won't you? I should be
delighted to welcome you at my house in Providence. Rhode Island is a
small State, but there's a great deal of wealth there, and very good
society in Providence. It's quite New-Yorky, you know," said Mrs.

Vervain expressively. She rose as she spoke, and led the way back to
the gondola. She told Padre Girolamo that they were to be some weeks
in Venice, and made him promise to breakfast with them at their hotel.
She smiled and nodded to him after the boat had