"The priest," resumed Riccabocca, calmly, "has rightly judged in removing
my child as a guest from the house in which that traitor enters as lord."

"And where is the signorina?"

"With the poor priest. See, Giacomo, here, here--this is her handwriting
at the end of the letter,--the first lines she ever yet traced to me."

Jackeymo took off his hat, and looked reverently on the large characters
of a child's writing. But large as they were, they seemed indistinct,
for the paper was blistered with the child's tears; and on the place
where they had not fallen, there was a round fresh moist stain of the
tear that had dropped from the lids of the father. Riccabocca renewed,
"The priest recommends a convent."

"To the devil with the priest!" cried the servant; then crossing himself
rapidly, he added, "I did not mean that, Monsignore San Giacomo,--forgive
me! But your Excellency does not think of making a nun of his only
child!"

[The title of Excellency does not, in Italian, necessarily express
any exalted rank, but is often given by servants to their masters.]

"And yet why not?" said Riccabocca, mournfully; "what can I give her in
the world? Is the land of the stranger a better refuge than the home of
peace in her native clime?"

"In the land of the stranger beats her father's heart!"