(151)
preceding day she had been so anxious to obtain the permission.
"Alas, father," she said, waving her head mournfully, "your kindness comes too late; my doom is fixed; we must separate for ever; yet believe that I am grateful for your generosity; for your compassion of an unfortunate who is but too little deserving of it."
She put her handkerchief to her eyes; her cowl was only half drawn over her face. Ambrosio observed that she was pale, and her eyes sunk and heavy.
"Good God!" he cried, "you are very ill, Matilda; I shall send father Pablos to you instantly."
"No, do not; I am ill, 'tis true, but he cannot cure my malady. Farewell, father! Remember me in your prayers to-morrow, while I shall remember you in heaven."
She entered her cell, and closed the door.
The abbot dispatched to her the physician without losing a moment, and waited his report impatiently; but father Pablossoon