great good-humour, and smiled; and, being forbidden to speak, she made many signs, asking questions of some whom she knew before. One priest, il Conte Passi, offered her some cotton perfumed from the body of Sta. Maria Maddalena di Pazzi; but she would not have it, nor smell it, refusing it in a truly pleasant way. I spoke of praying for England, and she nodded graciously, but did not take much {312} apparent notice. I suppose she does it about nothing but what comes by obedience. If the conversation had a pause, she immediately became again absorbed in God till Father Capistrano recalled her again. After a proper time, he gave us signs to retire; on which she earnestly made signs for a cartoon-box full of holy prints to be brought, and she began with great earnestness to turn them over, seeming to recollect herself very intently. She then gave me two, and afterwards another. I was struck when I saw the first was a figure of St. George, as she had not heard my name I knew. Afterwards, I supposed she might allude only to England, as she knew I was English. Soon after, she fell back into ecstasy as she lay, and we went away. I walked down to the inn with Conte Passi and a priest of the place, who visits her nearly every day. I began a letter, when, about 6, I was agreeably surprised by seeing Phillipps and his party drive up. He and I went to the Franciscan convent, but could not see Father Capistrano. Conte Passi and I slept in the same room, and into a third bed tumbled some one else, I thought, like the ostler, after we were in bed. I slept none the worse, and why should I?