treated in the same way; the whole place had been defaced, mutilated, profaned; but she found her bed and bedding, and other things of household use, and all her clothes and linen there; for the bribes of Daniello Villamagna had been at work here also to secure to her the humble necessaries of human life.
She began her existence once more in this lonely abode, sadly content to be once more where all her memories of joy had been garnered, and where her lover, if he looked for her ever, would surely come. She took up the thread of her days where it had been broken, but it was no longer the same.
There was no more the body of the little child beside her; no more did the coffin of Joconda seem to bring a quiet blessing on the place.
And there were no more for her the joys of a light foot and a glad heart, of a happy ignorance of evil, of a simple self-taught philosophy which was content with finding daily bread and living like the birds of the air, careless of to-morrow, trustful of nature. All these were gone for ever.
Love had passed by there.
But they had let her come back. For
