"I will go with you," said Lorenzo. "I beseech you, signor, have my horses ordered. But, ere we go, I must thank this good friar for his most serviceable aid. That for your convent, father," he said, drawing him aside and giving him money. "I thank you for your skilful tendance on my wife; but I think that perhaps your counsels might, as you hinted even now, be as good for her mental condition as your drugs have been for her bodily health. I will pray you, therefore, good father, visit her tomorrow towards noon. You can explain your coming as a visit to a patient rather than a penitent; but if you can inspire her with somewhat more careful thought regarding her demeanour in the world, you will do well." "But the lady knows not yet that I tended on her," said Mardocchi; "let me speak with her again before she goes." He then approached the side of Eloise, and once more laid his fingers on her pulse. "Not quite recovered yet," he said, with a grave air; "give me some water. A few more drops will, I trust, complete the cure, daughter;" and he took the phial from his gown. "Not here, friar--not here!" whispered Ramiro d'Orco. But Mardocchi put him back with his hand, dropped out some more of the liquid, and gave it to Eloise, saying: "This will restore you perfectly for to-night. To-morrow I will see you again, to know how you are then." It was on the following day toward noon that Friar Peter entered the Episcopal Square, and approached the palace which had been hired for Lorenzo Visconti. He walked with downcast eyes and a thoughtful look, but none of the townspeople who passed him attributed any very high or holy meditations to the friar; for the Italians, especially of the lower class, are the most clear-sighted persons in the world into the depths of human character. "What is he calculating?" they thought; "what is he scheming now?" With a quiet, almost noiseless step, he approached the wide gates of the palazzo, and asked for the signora. "She is in the hall above with some French cavaliers, father," replied the janitore; "you can go up." "I would rather see her alone," answered the friar; "I attended upon her last night when she fainted at the Villa Ramiro, and wish to speak to her about her health. Can you not call her out of the hall for a moment?" The porter led him to the door of the hall, and, leaving him there, entered alone. He was gone but a moment, and then returning, led the friar up another flight of stairs to Eloise's chamber, where he left him, saying that his lady would be up in a few minutes.