“I would rather tell you some stories of my own,” I said. “I know some that are very interesting.” “When will you tell them? To-morrow?” “To-morrow, with pleasure, if that suits you.” Mrs. Ambient was silent at this. Her husband, during our walk, had asked me to remain another day; my promise to her son was an implication that I had consented, and it is not probable that the prospect was agreeable to her. This ought, doubtless, to have made me more careful as to what I said next; but all I can say is that it did n’t. I presently observed that just after leaving her the evening before, and after hearing her apply to her husband’s writings the epithet I had already quoted, I had, on going up to my room, sat down to the perusal of those sheets of his new book which he had been so good as to lend me. I had sat entranced till nearly three in the morning. I had read them twice over. “You say you have n’t looked at them. I think it ‘s such a pity you should n’t Do let me beg you to take them up. They are so very remarkable. I ‘m sure they will convert you. They place him in--really--such a dazzling light. All that is best in him is there. I have no doubt it’s a great liberty, my saying all this; but excuse me, and _do_ read them!” “Do read them, mamma!” Dolcino repeated; “do read them!” She bent her head and closed his lips with a kiss. “Of course I know he has worked immensely over them,” she said; and after this she made no remark, but sat there looking thoughtful, with her eyes on the ground. The tone of these last words was such as to leave me no spirit for further pressure, and after expressing a fear that her husband had not found the doctor at home, I got up and took a turn about the grounds. When I came back, ten minutes later, she was still in her place watching her boy, who had fallen asleep in her lap. As I drew near she put her finger to her lips, and a moment afterwards she rose, holding the child, and murmured something about its being better that he should go upstairs. I offered to carry him, and held out my hands to take him; but she thanked me and turned away with the child seated on her arm, his head on her shoulder. “I am very strong,” she said, as she passed into the house, and her slim, flexible figure bent backwards with the filial weight So I never touched Dolcino.