cistern-top.

"But, Don Ippolito--remember! I make no engagement for the ladies, whom
you must see before anything is settled," said Ferris.

"Surely,--surely!" answered the priest, and he remained smiling at the
door till the American turned the next corner. Then he went back to his
work-room, and took up the broken model from the bench. But he could
not work at it now, he could not work at anything; he began to walk up
and down the floor.

"Could he really have been so stupid because his mind was on his
ridiculous cannon?" wondered Ferris as he sauntered frowning away; and
he tried to prepare his own mind for his meeting with the Vervains, to
whom he must now go at once. He felt abused and victimized. Yet it was
an amusing experience, and he found himself able to interest both of
the ladies in it. The younger had received him as coldly as the forms
of greeting would allow; but as he talked she drew nearer him with a
reluctant haughtiness which he noted. He turned the more conspicuously
towards Mrs. Vervain. "Well, to make a long story short," he said, "I
couldn't discourage Don Ippolito. He refused to be dismayed--as I
should have been at the notion of teaching Miss Vervain. I didn't
arrange with him not to fall in love with her as his secular
predecessors have done--it seemed superfluous. But you can mention it
to him if you like. In fact," said Ferris, suddenly addressing the
daughter, "you might make the stipulation yourself, Miss Vervain."

She looked at him a moment with a sort of defenseless pain that made
him ashamed; and then walked away from him towards the window, with a
frank resentment that made him smile, as he continued, "But I suppose