"I have been there," answered Francesca. "I have often been to the convent. You know that one of our family is generally abbess. A Cardinal Braccio was archbishop, too, a good many years ago. Casa Braccio owns a good deal of property there."
"Yes. I know that you are of the family."
"My name was Francesca Braccio," said Francesca, quietly. "Of course I have always known Subiaco, and every one there knows Stefanone, and the story of his daughter who ran away with an Englishman many years ago, and never was heard of again."
Lord Redin grew a trifle paler.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Does every one know that story?"
There was something so constrained in his tone that Francesca looked at him curiously.
"Yes—in Subiaco," she answered. "But Gloria—" she lingered a little sadly on the name—"Gloria wrote letters to her husband from there and begged him to go and see her."
"He could hardly be expected to do that," said Lord Redin, his hard tone returning. "Did you advise him to go?"
"He consulted me," answered Francesca, rather coldly. "I told him to follow his own impulse. He did not go. He did not believe that she was sincere."
"I do not blame him. When a woman has done that sort of thing, there is no reason for believing her."