count manages the whole establishment, from renting her
the apartment of his uncle the Monsignor N---- to selecting the
governess of the daughter and the _chef_. Ha! ha! ha!"

The French voice: "Ah, the Count Martellini! And monsieur the husband
is at home in America making the money, I suppose. Mon Dieu! How those
men over yonder trust their wives! A charming arrangement for the
count."

The English voice: "Have you heard the latest rumor? They are actually
going off together to the Nile after Christmas. A party is proposed,
and that sort of thing, but every one knows that it will result in a
dahabeeh to the cataract. Vive l'amour!"

The French voice, changing to a louder key: "Ah, madame is looking so
charming to-day!"

Then a soft rustling of silken draperies over the polished floor
announced the entrance of Mrs. Denvil, amiable greetings were
exchanged, and the gentlemen became deferential and courteous in
manner. Buy the respect of the insolent, by all means!

All the same, two birds of prey had wheeled in heavy and sluggish
flight over the valley where the grain ripened and the poppies
bloomed, uttering their discordant, mocking cry.

Cecilia crouched behind the sofa, bewildered and astonished. What did
they mean? She grew hot and cold, her heart throbbed violently, she
clinched her little hand. Why had these wicked creatures come here to
sing their dreary duet? How their tone changed when the hostess
appeared! She experienced the swift, intense indignation of youth at
hypocrisy, ignorant that these voices would sound the same notes in
every house to which they gained admission, after the manner of
society. Instinct taught her they alluded to her own mother, before
the allusion to the Nile voyage, of which she had already heard. Her
mamma and the count were going, with some friends, up the Nile after
Christmas. Why might not she go also? Her lips quivered resentfully.
Only that morning she had found the count in the aviary, petting the
birds; she had wound her arms about his neck, and said, "Oh, how
beautiful you are! When I have grown as tall and handsome as a woman
can be I shall marry you."

The count had showered kisses on her fair hair, and pinched her cheek
in his caressing way.

"We need not wait long, carina," he had replied.

Then mamma had appeared on the threshold, a bright spot on each cheek,
and that new flash in her eye.

"You are too old for such nonsense, Cecilia. Go back to mademoisel