"Can you think of two things at once, Leonora?" asked her cousin, "for I know one thing you are thinking of, and you tell me of another. You are thinking of Lorenzo Visconti; and how strange it is that you, who love him well, have not the heart to own it to yourself." "Go, go, you are a silly child," answered Leonora, "you cannot know what love is, nor I either, except love for your parents or your kinsfolk. I think not of Lorenzo Visconti; he is a comely youth, and pleasant in his conversation; but he will go hence in a day, forget me in another, and I him before the third evening comes. You want to make me fall in love with him, but I tell you, Blanche, you will tire me of him." "Faith, I do not want you to love him," replied Bianca, "for I am half in love with him myself, and can't spare him--only, you know, there is one obstacle." "Well, well, go and sleep over it," replied Leonora, "then rise to-morrow, and whisper gently in his ear that, if he will but wait a year or two--this loving land and warm climate notwithstanding--he can wed the beautiful heiress of the house of Rovera, and--but what obstacle do you talk of, Blanche?" "The Church! the Church!" replied the other girl; "we are full cousins, you know, Leonora--within the forbidden degrees. My mother's eldest sister was his mother." "But a poor obstacle," answered Leonora; "one of the two bags of the Church is always open to take in gold, and the other to let out dispensations." "Yes: but somehow I can never look on him as aught else but a cousin," replied Bianca--"a sort of brother. As such I love him well; but as I said, I am only half in love with him---a fraternal love, which is a half love, I suppose. I do not know much about it; but I do not judge I could let him kiss me so coolly if I loved him any better. Bless my poor heart, Leonora, we were boy and girl together when we were in Florence, and were we to marry, I should always think him playfellow instead of husband. But I'll to bed and sleep; I have nothing to keep me awake. You go to bed and sleep, if you can. I know you, Leonora." "No, you do not," murmured her cousin; "but I shall sit up and look at the moonlight for a time." "And wish that the nightingale had not ceased to sing true-love ditties," replied Bianca gaily. "Well, good night. Leave the doors open, that I may hear if you sigh about Lorenzo in your sleep."