For some minutes Ambrosio regarded his attendant with a look of mingled pleasure and apprehension. She was seated upon the side of the bed, her head bending down, and as usual enveloped in the cowl of her habit.

“And you are still here, Matilda?” said the friar at length. “Are you not satisfied with having so nearly effected my destruction, that nothing but a miracle could have saved me from the grave? Ah! surely heaven sent that serpent to punish.⁠ ⁠…”

Matilda interrupted him by putting her hand before his lips with an air of gaiety.

“Hush! Father, hush! You must not talk!”

“He who imposed that order, knew not how interesting are the subjects on which I wish to speak.”

“But I know it, and yet issue the same positive command. I am appointed your nurse, and you must not disobey my orders.”

“You are in spirits, Matilda!”