this is the day,—I am strangely confused; I recollect now that I heard of his success before I slept."
"Father, it is my lord Castruccio, who, after having reinstated our prince in his sovereignty, visits your sick chamber."
Castruccio remained several hours conversing with the bishop; he gave him an account of the action of the morning, and Beatrice listened with her whole soul in her eyes; yet, attentive as she was to the narration, she watched with sweet earnestness her sick friend, turning her looks from him to the animated face of Castruccio; and again, as she crept near her adoptive father, she adjusted some pillow, or performed some little office that marked her earnest observation.
"How beautiful she is!" thought Castruccio, "and what will become of her?" He fixed his eyes on the silver plate on her forehead. "Yes, she is the Ancilla Dei, a maiden vowed to God and chastity; yet her eyes seem penetrated with love; the changeful and blooming colours of her face, her form, which is all that imagination can conceive of perfect, appear
