ia protested,
standing a moment on the threshold and frowning.

Then, when both girls had insisted on her entrance, she came and sat
down in a large chair with her small feet thrust under her.

Bianca was sitting on the edge of Charlotta's bed, both of them having
been examining a box of jewelry which the young countess had demanded
sent from her home earlier in the day.

The big room was very comfortable with a few pieces of old furniture
which had not been removed from this chamber to give place to the
regular hospital accommodations.

A shaded electric light was on a table near the bed throwing its warm
lights on Bianca Zoli's fair hair and on the Countess Charlotta's black
curls which she had tied with a band of bright blue velvet.

"You children look very young and very fortunate," Theodosia began, her
tone a little envious.

"It must be agreeable, Countess Charlotta, not to be a Miss Nobody of
Nowhere, even if you have difficulties of your own to contend with."

Theodosia made a queer little face, wrinkling her small nose, the dark
light appearing in the centres of her large, pale blue eyes.

"I don't think I could make up my mind even in my present condition to
marry a German nobleman, but a nobleman of another variety I think I
would accept regardless of his age and the democratic ideas which are
supposed to possess my country. As a matter of fact, I don't suppose any
girls in the world ever wanted to marry into the nobility more than
American girls before the war. I rather wonder if we have altogether
changed. But at any rate I have nothing to offer to anybody, neither
beauty, nor brains, nor money, nor family."

Then observing that both her companions appeared shocked by her
pessimism Theodosia laughed, her expression changing with extraordinary
swiftness.

"I wonder if you girls would like to hear a little of my history. I hope
you won't be bored. After all it is only fair that we should know
something of each other before we can form fair judgments. I wish I had
the courage to confide in Mrs. Clark, but I don't think she likes me.

"I might as well tell the worst or the best of myself first. My mother
was a dancer. I don't know much about her except that she was ill and
came to a little Kentucky town to try to recover. My father was a boy,
younger than she, and fell desperately in love. He married her without a
cent and against the will of his older brother, a small farmer. Well, my
mother died