"We are so poor!" she said passionately; "and mother has been ill so long, we should have become a burden to him. And then I never should have done for a signora. When his friends came to see him, he would only have been ashamed of me."
"How can you say so? I tell you the man was good and kind; he would even have been willing to settle in Sorrento. It will not be so easy to find another, sent straight from heaven to be the saving of you, as this man, indeed, appeared to be."
"I want no husband—I never shall," she said, very stubbornly, half to herself.
"Is this a vow? or do you mean to be a nun?"
She shook her head.
"The people are not so wrong who call you wilful, although the name they give you is not kind. Have you ever considered that you stand alone in the world, and that your perverseness must make your sick mother's illness worse to bear, her life more bitter? And what sound reason can you have to give for rejecting an honest hand, stretched out to help you and your mother? Answer me, Laurella."
"I have a reason," she said reluctantly, and speaking low; "but it is one I cannot give."
"Not give! not give to me? not to your confessor, whom you surely know to be your friend—or is he not?"
