"You know it is only a few acres in extent--not more than six, I fancy, and four-fifths of it are walled about with walls that stand knee-deep in sea-grasses. Along, and above it, are thrust the tapering tops of those highly decorative cypresses without which Italy would not be herself at all. There is such a monastery there--an ideal one, with cloister, and sundial, and marble-curbed well, and all that; at least so I am told; we poor feminine creatures are not permitted to cross the thresholds of these Holy Houses. This reminds me of a remark I heard made by a very clever woman who wished to have a glimpse of the interior of that impossible Monte Casino on the mountain top between Rome and Naples. Of course she was refused admission; she turned upon the poor Benedictine, who was only obeying orders--it is a rule of the house, you know--and said, 'Why do you refuse me admission to this shrine? Is it because I am of the same sex as the mother of your God?' But she didn't get in for all that. Neither have I crossed the threshold of San Francisco del Deserto, but I have wandered upon the green in front of the little chapel; and sat under the trees in contemplation of the sea and wished--yes, really and truly wished--that I were a barefooted Franciscan friar with nothing to do but look picturesque in such a terrestrial paradise. "What do you think happened when we were there the other day? Now at last I am coming to it. We were all upon the Campo in front of the chapel--Violet, Eugene and I; the Angelus had just rung; it was the hour of all hours in one's lifetime; the deepening twilight--we had the moon to light us on our homeward way--the inexpressible loveliness of the atmosphere, the unutterable peace, the unspeakable serenity--the repose in nature--I cannot begin to express myself! "Out of the chapel came the Father Superior. He knows us very well, for we have often visited the island; he always offers us some refreshment, a cup of mass wine, or a dish of fruit, and so he did on this occasion. We were in no hurry to leave the shore and so accepted his invitation to be seated under the trees while he ordered the repast. "Presently he returned and was shortly followed by a young friar whom we had never seen before; there are not many of them there--a dozen perhaps--and their faces are more or less familiar to us, for even we poor women may kneel without the gratings in their little chapel, and so we have learned to know the faces we have seen there in the choir. But this one was quite new to us and so striking; his eyes were ever raised; he offered us a dish of bread and olives, while the abbot poured our wine, and the very moment we had served ourselves he quietly withdrew. "I could think of but one thing--indeed we all thought of it at the same moment--'tis Browning's-- "'What's become of Waring Since he gave us all the slip?'"