morning's sins and grace to do better in the future.




CHAPTER VI

FRA GERVASIO


I did not again see my mother that day, nor did she sup with us that
evening. I was told by Fra Gervasio that on my account was she in retreat,
praying for light and guidance in the thing that must be determined
concerning me.

I withdrew early to my little bedroom overlooking the gardens, a room that
had more the air of a monastic cell than a bedchamber fitting the estate of
the Lord of Mondolfo. The walls were whitewashed, and besides the crucifix
that hung over my bed, their only decoration was a crude painting of St.
Augustine disputing with the little boy on the seashore.

For bed I had a plain hard pallet, and the room contained, in addition, a
wooden chair, a stool upon which was set a steel basin with its ewer for my
ablutions, and a cupboard for the few sombre black garments I possessed--
for the amiable vanity of raiment usual in young men of my years had never
yet assailed me; I had none to emulate in that respect.

I got me to bed, blew out my taper, and composed myself to sleep. But
sleep was playing truant from me. Long I lay there surveying the events of
that day--the day in which I had embarked upon the discovery of myself; the