"Force? Force is never used here, you must be out of your mind. If you do not see Miss Bruce, you may depend that it is because she does not _wish_ to see you." "She would--if she could hear me say one word!" "No doubt you'd cajole her! I'm glad she is where you can't get at her, poor dear!" "She was to have been my wife two weeks ago," said Paul, making a last effort to soften her. "Well, go home now; she'll never be your wife _this_ side the grave," said the old lady, laughing. "I'll make all Italy ring with it, madam. This old house shall come down about your ears." "Mercy me! We're not Italians, we're English. And we've got a government protection; it's a charitable institution." "For inveigling people, and getting their money! Miss Bruce, you know, has money." "I didn't know a thing about it--not a thing! Money, has she? Well, Ernestine Wingate _does_ like money; she wants to build a new wing. Look here, young man, Father Ambrose is coming here to-day; you want to see _him_. He'll do what's right, he is a very good man; and he commands all the others; they have to do as he says, whether they like it or not,--I guess you'd better not _hurry_ away." And, with a nod in which there was almost a wink, the American convert went back down the hall and up the stairway, disappearing through a door which closed with a sharp bang behind her. Paul crossed the court-yard, and, opening one of the great portals, he passed through, shutting it behind him. Outside, attached to the wall of the villa, there ran a long, low stone bench, crumbling and overgrown with ivy; he sat down here, and remained motionless. An hour later a carriage drove up, and a priest descended; he was a man of fifty-eight or there-abouts, tall, with a fine bearing and an agreeable face. Paul went up to him, touching his hat as he did so. "Are you going in?" "That is what I have come for," answered the priest, smiling. The doors, meanwhile, had been thrown open; the priest passed in, followed by Paul. When they reached the court-yard the priest stopped. "Will you kindly tell me your business?" "It concerns Miss Bruce, an American who has only been here a few days. She came, supposing that the death of my brother was due to an act of hers; I have just learned that she is completely mistaken, he died from another cause." "God be praised! She has been very unhappy--very," said the priest, with sympathy. "This will relieve her." "I should like to see her.--The whole community can be present, if you please." "That will hardly be necessary," said Father Ambrose, smiling again. He went towards the door by the side of the chapel. "I will tell her myself, I will go at once." He opened the door. "I prefer to see her. You have no real authority over her, she has not yet taken the vows."