"No, lady," said Ursula, rising and lifting her eyes to heaven;--"they
shall buy masses for his mother's soul; for him I shall reserve a
competence when his years require it. Lady, accept the thanks of a
wretched and desolate heart. Fare you well!"

She turned to quit the room, but with so faltering and weak a step, that
Nina, touched and affected, sprung up, and with her own hand guided
the old woman across the room, whispering comfort and soothing to her;
while, as they reached the door, the boy rushed forward, and, clasping
Ursula's robe, sobbed out--"Dear dame, not one farewell for your little
Angelo! Forgive him all he has cost you! Now, for the first time, I feel
how wayward and thankless I have been."

The old woman caught him in her arms, and kissed him passionately; when
the boy, as if a thought suddenly struck him, drew forth the purse she
had given him and said, in a choked and scarce articulate voice,--"And
let this, dearest dame, go in masses for my poor father's soul; for he
is dead, too, you know!"

These words seemed to freeze at once all the tenderer emotions of
Ursula. She put back the boy with the same chilling and stern severity
of aspect and manner which had so often before repressed him: and
recovering her self-possession, at once quitted the apartment without
saying another word. Nina, surprised, but still pitying her sorrow and
respecting her age, followed her steps across the pages' ante-room and
the reception-chamber, even to the foot of the stairs,--a condescension
the haughtiest princess of Rome could not have won from her; and
returning, saddened and thoughtful, she took the boy's hand, and
affectionately kissed his forehead.