She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. Night and day have been alike to me. Besides, how am I to ride home without them?" "Don't distress yourself," returned Jack, "you shall walk. “Why should it matter?” he said. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua.
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