sked:

"Where is she now?"

"She has gone to Paris with a painter, a delightful man, who loves her
very much, and who gives her everything that she wants. Just look at
what she sent me; they are very pretty, are they not?"

And she showed me, with quite southern animation, her heavy bracelets
and necklace. "I have also," she continued, "earrings with stones
in them, a silk dress, and some rings; but I only wear them on grand
occasions. Oh! she is very happy, monsieur, very happy. She will be so
pleased when I tell her you have been here. But pray come in and sit
down. You will take something or other, surely?"

But I refused, as I now wished to get away by the first train; but she
took me by the arm and pulled me in, saying:

"Please, come in; I must tell her that you have been in here."

I found myself in a small, rather dark room, furnished with only a table
and a few chairs.

She continued: "Oh, she is very happy now, very happy. When you met her
in the train she was very miserable; she had had an unfortunate love
affair in Marseilles, and she was coming home, poor child. But she liked
you at once, though she was still rather sad, you understand. Now she
has all she wants, and she writes and tells me everything that she
does. His name is Bellemin, and they say he is a great painter in your
country. He fell in love with her at first sight. But you will take a
glass of sirup?-it is very good. Are you quite alone, this year?"

"Yes," I said, "quite alone."

I felt an increasing inclination to laugh, as my first disappointment
was dispelled by what Mother Rondoli said. I was obliged; however, to
drink a glass of her sirup.

"So you are quite alone?" she continued. "How sorry I am that Francesca
is not here now; she would have been company for you all the time you
stayed. It is not very amusing to go about all by oneself, and she will
be very sorry also."

Then, as I was getting up to go, she exclaimed:

"But would you not like Carlotta to go with you? She knows all the walks
very well. She is my second daughter, monsieur."

No doubt she took my look of surprise for consent, for she opened the
inner door and called out up the dark stairs which I could not see:

"Carlotta! Carlotta! make haste down, my dear child."

I tried to protest, but she would not listen.

"No; she will be very glad to go with you; she is very nice, and much
more cheerful than her sister, and she is a good girl, a very good girl,