week? Enough to feed fifty packs of hounds." Drink? "It streams at every
street corner." "Thus," she would conclude, "are our necessities
supplied. For luxuries we have the sun in sheltered cloisters, the rain
to cleanse the ways in which we walk, the splendours of the church to
feast our eyes, the chances and changes of the streets and taverns to
keep our minds alert. No, no, Don Francis," quoth she, "let them sweat
and grow thin who must. We are free."

I could not admit all the conclusions of this philosophy, though I was
not concerned to dispute them. But Virginia's theories of life
interested me extremely and her ability to apply them was extraordinary.
Perhaps I was by predestination a vagabond, and no doubt she was. All I
can say is that if I myself became strong and healthy on those terms,
Virginia bloomed like a wild rose and seemed to grow in grace under my
eyes. She devoted herself to me and kept me in excellent order; washed
my shirt and stockings at the fountain, kept my clothes neatly mended,
buttons on my vest; brushed my cloak, clouted my shoes. She was not
inattentive to her own person either. She put her hair up into a coil
and pinned it with a silver comb, kept herself clean, and wore shoes and
stockings. A pair of stays became her well, and a loose white kerchief
for her bare neck. She showed to be a beautiful girl. Her eyes lost
their sombre regard, her colour cleared, her cheeks took rounder curves.
Where she got her clothes, where the food which made her sleek, where
the happy light in her eyes, were mysteries to me. She seldom left me,
she showed no signs of having been at work; so far as I knew she had no
friends in Pistoja and asked no extraordinary charities. I believed that
she shared in the distribution of alms at the gates of certain
monasteries; I fancied once or twice that a look of recognition passed
between her and various persons as they met in the streets, but as she
said nothing to me on the subject I made no inquiries. There was no