eek, and
pinched her small ear.

"_Mon cher coeur_," said she, "I do not forget your goodness. And I
needed it, for I have been so wretched and forsaken. My soul is weighed
down with troubles, and grief, and anxiety: each day I expect some new
misfortune: you are the one friend I may keep. But you would not know
how to imagine the intrigues and falsehoods which surround me on every
side. _O mon amie_, I must prove to them that I want nothing they can
give me--that I possess nothing which they can take away."

"I know what she means, Pensee," said Sara; "she has to show d'Alchingen
that her interests are fixed on art--not politics. And, from her point
of view, she is right. I must say so, although I don't wish to
interfere. And so long as she knows M. de Castrillon, it is better taste
to make her first appearance with him than with some strange actor
engaged for the occasion. After all, Mario was well known as the
Marchese di Candia before he adopted the operatic stage as a profession.
As for gossip, how is anybody's tongue to be stopped?"

"I do not expect that people's tongues should be stopped," rejoined
Pensee.

"What the world says of me I have learned to disregard very much," said
Brigit: "if I vex my friends, I must nevertheless follow my vocation. It
was good enough for my mother. I do not apologise for her existence, nor
do I offer excuses for my own. She was an actress: I am an actress. She
succeeded: I may not succeed. But if you fear for my faith and my
character, it would be quite as easy to lose both in the highest society
as in the vilest theatres! I foresee mistakes and difficulties. They
must come. I shan't have a happy life, dearest Pensee: I don't look for
happiness. Why then do you scold me?"

"I am not scolding," said Lady Fitz Rewes: "I have never blamed you,
never--in my heart. We shall get on better now that we have brought
ourselves to speak out. How different it is when one judges for oneself
or for another! I do believe in having the courage of one's convictions.
But it was my duty to warn you----"

"This is all I wanted," exclaimed Brigit; "that we should understand
each other and stand close by each other. I am not on the edge of a
precipice--I am at the bottom of it already!" Her eyes had grown calm
from the mere force of sadness. "You mustn't ask me to look back," she
added: "you mustn't ask me to choose again. A simple, quiet life is out
of the question now. I have to learn how to f