Parental solicitude and prophetic foresight were in his
glance, but the expression was relieved by the charity of a chastened
spirit.
"Gratitude to the preserver of thy life becomes thy station and sex; it
is a duty. Cherish the feeling, for it is akin to the holy obligation of
man to his Creator."
"Is it enough to feel grateful!" demanded Violetta. "One of my name and
alliances might do more. We can move the patricians of my family in
behalf of the stranger, that his protracted suit may come to a more
speedy end."
"Daughter, beware; the intercession of one in whom St. Mark feels so
lively an interest, may raise up enemies to Don Camillo, instead of
friends."
Donna Violetta was silent, while the monk and Donna Florinda both
regarded her with affectionate concern. The former then adjusted his
cowl, and prepared to depart. The noble maiden approached the Carmelite,
and looking into his face with ingenuous confidence and habitual
reverence, she besought his blessing. When the solemn and customary
office was performed, the monk turned towards the companion of his
spiritual charge. Donna Florinda permitted the silk, on which her needle
had been busy, to fall into her lap, and she sat in meek silence, while
the Carmelite raised his open palms towards her bended head. His lips
moved, but the words of benediction were inaudible. Had the ardent being
intrusted to their joint care been less occupied with her own feelings,
or more practised in the interests of that world into which she was
about to enter, it is probable she would have detected some evidence of
that deep but smothered sympathy, which so often betrayed itself in the
silent intelligence of her ghostly father and her female Mentor.
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