The happiness I expected in my old age may yet be a reality.

You, Mary,--pure image of piety, goodness, and love,--you will be my child! And when old Deodati will be called to leave this world, he will see you and Geronimo by his dying bed, like two angels, pointing out to his expiring goal the path to heaven.

Oh! no, no; this would be too much happiness.

My mind wanders.

And yet, Mary, let us hope!" The young girl was deeply moved by the picture of that happiness which she had thought was lost to her forever.