But the other half is not simply difficult; it is impossible. I could never make her desire to struggle with me; it would never occur to her to yield in order to obtain. If she were mine, I would dress her as a boy and take her with me hunting. At need she would hunt the Neapolitan as she has hunted the abbé to-day. She would soon be hardened. I should love her as a page; I should not look upon her as a woman at all." "Well, monsignor," said Mila, a little annoyed by her host's long silence, "are you waiting for the Piccinino to come? Can I not go away now?" "Do you want to go?" replied the Piccinino, looking at her with a distraught air. "Why not? You managed the affair so quickly that it is still early, and I can return alone by daylight. I shall not be afraid now that I know where the abbé is, and that he is incapable of coming after me." "Wouldn't you like me to escort you, at least as far as Bel-Passo?" "It seems to me quite unnecessary for you to put yourself out." "Very well, go, Mila; you are free, since you are in such haste to leave me, and are so uncomfortable in my company." "No, signor, do not say that," replied the girl, artlessly. "I am highly honored to be with you, and if it were not for the danger, which you realize, of being spied upon and falsely accused, I should enjoy staying with you; for it seems to me that you are sad, and I might at least divert your thoughts. Sometimes Princess Agatha is sad too, and when I would leave her alone, she says to me: 'Stay with me, little Mila; even if we don't speak, your presence does me good.'" "Princess Agatha is sad sometimes? Do you know the reason?" "No; but I have an idea that she is bored to death." Thereupon the Piccinino asked many questions, which Mila answered with her usual ingenuousness, but neither would nor could tell him anything more than he had already heard; that is to say, that she lived a virtuous, retired life, that she was very charitable, that she read a great deal, that she loved the arts, and that she was gentle and placid, almost to the point of apathy, in her external relations. But the unsuspecting Mila added that she was sure that her dear princess was more ardent and self-sacrificing in her affections than people thought; that she had often known her to be moved to tears by the story of some misfortune, or even by some touchingly simple anecdote. "For instance?" said the Piccinino; "give me an example."