"NUORO, September 20th.
"MY DEAR GODFATHER,—I intended to visit you and explain by word what now I must write to you, for at this moment, I have received from Fonni news of my mother's dangerous illness, and I must go to her at once. This, therefore, is what I have to tell you.
"Your daughter informs me that she withdraws her promise of marriage, which we had arranged together, with your consent. If she has not already done so, she will explain to you her reason for this decision, which, of course, I accept. Our characters are too unlike for us to be united. Fortunately, for us and for those who love us, we have made this sad discovery in time. It may make us unhappy now, but it will prevent an error which would be the misfortune of our whole lives. Your daughter will surely attain the happiness which she deserves, and will meet some man who is worthy of her. No one will wish her greater happiness than I do. As for me—I will follow my destiny.
"Ah! dear godfather! when you have had the explanation from Margherita, don't, don't accuse me of ingratitude and of pride, whatever happens. Whether or not I am allowed to fulfil grave duties to an unhappy mother, I know every relation between me and you, or any of your family, is at an end. I renounce all favours, which indeed would now be absurd and humiliating to us all, but in my heart I shall retain as long as I live the sincerest gratitude for all your goodness to me. In this sad hour of my life, when circumstances make me despair of everything and everybody, and especially of myself, I still look up to you, my godfather, and remember your kindness and charity which has guided me from the first hour I knew you, and which still preserves my faith in human goodness. And the duty of gratitude to you, makes me still wish to live, though the light of life is failing me on all sides. I have no more to add; the future will explain to you the real nature of my thoughts, and will, I hope, prevent your repenting of your kindness, to—Your ever most grateful.
"ANANIA ATONZU."
At three o'clock, Anania was already on his way to Fonni, riding on an old horse blind of an eye, which did not travel so fast as the occasion demanded. But alas! why hide the truth? Anania was not in a hurry, although the driver of the coach, Aunt Grathia's messenger, had said.
"You must start at once; it is possible you may find the woman already dead."
For a time Anania could think of nothing but the letter which he had himself consigned to Signor Carboni's servant.
"He'll be angry with me," thought Anania, "when Margherita tells him of my strange excuses, he'll think she's in the right. Of course, any girl would have done what she has done. I suppose I am quite wrong, but still who ever the girl was, I should have acted the same. Perhaps I ought to have said in my letter that I was to blame, but that I simply couldn't do anything else. But no, they wouldn't understand, just as they won't be able to forgive. It's all over."
Suddenly he felt an impulse of joy at the fact that his mother was dying; but at once he tried to shudder at himself.