"You are early, Signora," he said. "I suppose you are the person for
whom yonder scaffold has been prepared."
"Yes, father, I am the artist for whom leave has been obtained to
copy some of your mosaics."
"You will find it cold work, daughter. The church is damp somewhat.
You would do better, methinks, not to begin your day's work till the
sun has had time to warm the air a little."
"I had no thought, father, of beginning to-day. I have brought
nothing with me. I only thought that I would walk out and have a
look at the job before me. It is not so far from the city as I
thought."
"It is far enough to be as lonely and as deserted as if it were a
thousand miles from a human habitation," said the monk, looking into
the girl's face with a grave smile.
"Yet you live here, from year's end to year's end all alone, Padre
mio," said Paolina, timidly.
"Not quite so, daughter," replied he. "Brother Barnaba, a lay
brother of our order, is my companion. But he is ill with a touch of
ague at present."
"And how early would it be not inconvenient to you, Padre mio, to
open the church for me?" asked Paolina.
"I spoke not of your being early on my account, daughter. If you
come here at sunrise, you will find the gate open, and me where you
found me this morning; and if you come at midnight you will find the
same.
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