I summoned the landlord and paid the bill, which was a very small one, and I told him to take care of the lady till my return. The poor girl was dumb with surprise and gratitude. I said good-bye kindly and left her without even taking her hand. It was not altogether a case of the devil turning monk; I always had a respect for distress. I had already thought of Zenobia in connection with the poor girl's lodging, and I went to see her on the spot. In her husband's presence I told her what I wanted, and asked if she could find a corner for my new friend. "She shall have my place," cried the worthy tailor, "if she won't mind sleeping with my wife. I will hire a small room hard bye, and will sleep there as long as the young lady stays." "That's a good idea, gossip, but your wife will lose by the exchange." "Not much," said Zenobia; and the tailor burst out laughing. "As for her meals," he added, "she must arrange that herself." "That's a very simple matter," said I, "Zenobia will get them and I will pay for them." I wrote the girl a short note, telling her of the arrangements I had made, and charged Zenobia to take her the letter. The next day I found her in the poor lodging with these worthy folks, looking pleased and ravishingly pretty. I felt that I could behave well for the present, but I sighed at the thought of the journey. I should have to put a strong restraint on myself. I had nothing more to do at Milan, but the count had made me promise to spend a fortnight at St. Angelo. This was an estate belonging to him, fifteen miles from Milan, and the count spoke most enthusiastically of it. If I had gone away without seeing St. Angelo, he would have been exceedingly mortified. A married brother of his lived there, and the count often said that his brother was longing to know me. When we returned he would no doubt let me depart in peace. I had made up my mind to shew my gratitude to the worthy man for his hospitality, so on the fourth day of Lent I took leave of Therese, Greppi, and the affectionate marchioness, for two weeks, and we set out on our way. To my great delight the countess did not care to come. She much preferred staying in Milan with Triulzi, who did not let her lack for anything. We got to St. Angelo at three o'clock, and found that we were expected to dinner. CHAPTER XXI An Ancient Castle--Clementine--The Fair Penitent--Lodi--A Mutual Passion