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"Whatever depends upon me, my son, you know that you may command. What is your friend's name?"
"Vincentio della Ronda."
"'Tis sufficient. I will not forget him in my prayers, and may our thrice-blessed St. Francis deign to listen to my intercession!—What have you in your basket, Rosario?"
"A few of those flowers, reverend father, which I have observed to be most acceptable to you. Will you permit my arranging them in your chamber?"
"Your attentions charm me, my son."
While Rosario dispersed the contents of his basket in small vases, placed for that purpose in various parts of the room, the abbot thus continued the conversation:
"I saw you not in the church this evening, Rosario."
"Yet I was present, father. I am too grateful for your protection to lose an opportunity of witnessing your triumph."
"Alas! Rosario, I have but little causeto
