she could only press the little governess's hand again while she tried
to edge in a word of thanks between the quick sentences.

'And as for the rest,' Madame Bernard ran on, 'I have chaperoned half
the young girls in Roman society to concerts and to the dentist's, and
I have a nice little sitting-room, and there is no reason in the world
why Count Severi should not come to see us, until you can be married!'

This, at least, did not escape Angela, who squeezed the small plump
hand very hard, and at last succeeded in speaking herself.

'You are too good!' she cried. 'Too kind! If it turns out to be true,
if I am really to be a beggar, I would rather beg of you than of
distant cousins and people I know! Besides, they are all so afraid of
my aunt's tongue that not one of them would dare to take me in, even
for a week! But I will not come unless you will let me work to help
you, in some way--I do not know how--is there nothing I know well enough
to teach?'

'Oh, la, la!' cried Madame Bernard. 'Will you please not say such
things, my dear! As if it were not the greatest happiness in the world
you will be giving me, a lonely old woman, to come and live with me,
and help me take care of the parrot and water the flowers in the
window every evening at sunset, and learn how to make a "navarin!"
Work? Oh yes! You shall work, my dear child! If you think it is easy
to please a parrot, try it! I only say that!'

'I will do my best,' Angela said, smiling. 'To-morrow, at this hour,
we shall know what is to happen.'

'What has happened, has happened,' said Madame Bernard, as calmly as
any Hindu, though she was not a fatalist. 'Even if there is a paper
somewhere, do you think the Marchesa will not be the first to find it
and tear it to a thousand bits? No, I will not call her "Princess
Chiaromonte"! I, who knew your mother, my dear! Trust me, if there is
a will in the sealed rooms, the Marchesa will discover it before any
one!'

Angela thought that this might be true, for she had a most vivid
recollection of her aunt's look and voice during the late interview.
The more she thought of the immediate future, the clearer it became to
her that she must accept her old governess's offer of shelter for the
present. She could not bring herself to beg a lodging and the bare
necessaries of life from any of those people whom she had called her
friends. There were at least half-a-dozen girls with whom she had been
intimate at the Sacred Hea