mentioned?"

"I thought it was," answered Annunziata. "I am sorry it is not." And
then she dismissed the subject. "See, it is raining harder. See how the
rain comes down in long strings of beads,--see how it is like a network
of long strings of glass beads falling through the air. When the rain
comes down like that, it means that after the rain stops it will be very
hot. To-morrow it will be very hot."

The bell in the clock-tower tolled out seven solemn strokes; then the
lighter-toned and nimbler-tongued bell of the church began to ring.

"Come," peremptorily said Annunziata, jumping up. "Mass."

She held out her hand, took John's, and, like a mother, led the meek and
unquestioning young man to his duties.




II


Of course there are no such heretical inventions as pews in the parish
church of Sant' Alessina. You sit upon orthodox rush-bottomed chairs,
you kneel upon orthodox bare stones. But at the Epistle side of the
altar, at an elevation of perhaps a yard from the pavement, there is a
recess in the wall, enclosed by a marble balustrade, and hung with faded
red curtains, which looks, I'm afraid, a good deal like a private box at
a theatre, and is in fact the tribune reserved for the masters of the