Francesca, in obedience to her director, as well as guided by her own
sense of duty, modified for the time being her usual mode of life, and
occupied herself with the care of her child in preference to all other
observances of charity or of devotion. She did not complain or regret
that she had to give up her habitual religious exercises, in order to
tend and to nurse the little creature whom she looked upon as the gift
of God, and whose careful training the best offering she could make in
return. The joy which she had felt in her infant's birth was marred by
the death of her father, who, when his grandson was placed in his arms,
exclaimed in the words of St. Simeon, "Lord, now lettest Thou thy
servant depart in peace;" and the words seem to have been prophetic, for
he died almost immediately afterwards, and was buried in the vaults of
Santa Agnese, in the Piazza Nuova. At a later period, when that church
was reconstructed, his remains were transported to the cloisters of
Tor Di Specchi, where the simple inscription, "Here lies Paul Bussa,"
remains to this day. Francesca, in pursuance of her desire, not only to
exclude evil, but to infuse good dispositions at the earliest possible
period into her baby's soul, lost no opportunity of imparting to him the
first notions of religion. Before he could speak, she used to repeat
to him every day the Lord's Prayer and the Hail Mary, clasp his little
hands together, and direct his eyes to heaven, and to the images of
Jesus and Mary, whose names were of course the first words he learned to
utter. She checked in him by grave looks, and slight punishments fitted
to his age, every ebullition of self-will, obstinacy, and anger; and
later, of deceit, envy, and immodesty. Though she had the most tender
mother's heart, she seldom indulged in passionate caresses, and never
left unchastised any of his faults, or gave way in any instance to his
tears and impatience. When others objected that it was absurd to expect
self-command from a creature whose reason was not developed, she