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I have seen him count over gold and jewels with old Andrinetta on his return from some expedition. To me he was harsh and cruel. I hated him, and he knew that I hated him. He ordered me to call him father, and I was more than once savagely beaten by him because I refused to do so. Under such treatment, in such a wretched home, deprived of all natural companionship, I grew wild and strange.
There was a pause, during which Honoria sat in a meditative attitude, with her eyes fixed upon vacancy. It seemed as if she was looking back into the shadowy past. "I cannot tell you how wretched my life was for some time. Andrinetta had accompanied us to Naples; and soon I saw she was very ill, and she had fits of violence that approached insanity. Within doors she was my sole companion.
"An old woman, called Andrinetta I know that, though I called her 'nurse' when she was with me in the beautiful home I so dimly remember and the man whom you have heard of under the name of Black Milsom." "Is he an Italian?" asked Andrew, astonished. "I don't know," replied Honoria. "In England he calls himself an Englishman in Italy he is supposed to be an Italian.
He taught me, he comforted me, he rescued me from the abyss of wretchedness into which I had fallen. I took care to conceal his visits from my tyrant, for I knew how that wicked heart would revolt against my redemption from ignorance and misery. When I was fifteen years of age, Andrinetta died. I will not speak of that time. I have told you now all that I can tell."
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