"Christine, my daughter!" repeated the voice.
"Mother," exclaimed Christine, "you out in this dreadful weather! I conjure you to go in!"
"I have been two days in bed, my child; I have been unwell; to-night I am better; I felt it impossible to remain longer without seeing you, who are my life, my strength, my health! Oh! you were right not to leave me; it would have killed me. How are you, dear Christine? Have you all you require? How do you live, deprived of my caresses?"
"Dearest mother, for heaven's sake, go in! The night is damp and cold; it will be your death!"
"Your voice warms me; it is far from you that I feel chill and faint. Dearest child, my heart sends you a thousand kisses."
"I receive them on my knees, mother, my arms extended towards you. But, when shall I see you again?"
"When you submit, and promise to obey; when you no longer seek him you are forbidden to see, and whom you must forget. My daughter, it is your duty."
"Oh mother, I thought your heart could better understand what it never felt. I thought you respected the true sentiments of the soul, and that your lips knew not how to utter the word 'forget.' If I forgot, I should be a mere silly child, capricious, unruly, unworthy your tenderness. If my malady is without remedy, I am a steadfast woman, suffering and self-sacrificing. Good God! How is it you do not understand that?"
"I understand," murmured Annunciata, but in so low a tone, that she was sure her daughter could not hear her.
"Mother," resumed Christine, "go to my father! summon up that courage which fails you when you alone are concerned; speak boldly to him, tell him what I have told you; demand my liberty, my happiness."