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'To me, whose hours moved in one round of full uniformity—who had no pursuit to interest—no variety to animate my drooping spirits—to me the effort of forgetfulness was ineffectual. The loved idea of Angelo still rose upon my fancy, and its powers of captivation, heightened by absence, and, perhaps even by despair, pursued me with incessant grief. I concealed in silence the anguish that preyed upon my heart, and resigned myself a willing victim to monastic austerity. But I was now threatened with a new evil, terrible and unexpected. I was so unfortunate as to attract the admiration of the Marquis Marinelli, and he applied to my father. He was illustrious at once in birth and fortune, and his visits could only be unwelcome to me. Dreadful was the moment in which my father disclosed to me the proposal. My distress, which I vainly endeavoured to command, discovered the exact situation of my heart, and my father was affected. Father and Mother looked at the report. “Very good, John,” said Father; and Johnny felt Mother’s gentle hand stroking his hair. “Yes, I just tumbled right in.” He got up in bed, eager to show how he fell. “But it was horrid afterward, because some fine ladies and gentlemen came, who ate and drank there on the wharf a long time; and then Nils the fisherman lent me his blouse, and they gave me some cream cakes”— “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go to it. If we get through we’ll know what we want to know. If we—we don’t, it doesn’t make much difference, does it, old man?”.