She had conquered. Moving over to her I looked straight in her face. My voice rang strange and hollow: "By marrying your son I should bring no disgrace upon him nor his family. But I do not intend to marry him."
She had not anticipated so easy a victory. Her cheek flushed, almost as if with compunction. She held out her hands towards me.
But as for me, I turned away ungraciously, and, going up to the chest, began to lift out my under linen, and to pile it on the bed.
"Marchesa, do not thank me, do not praise me? I do not know if I am doing right or wrong."
"Signorina, you have taken the course of an honourable woman."
I went over to the corner where my box stood, and lifted the lid with trembling hands.
"Marchesa, will your servant find out what hour of the night the train leaves for Genoa? and will he have a drosky ready in time to take me to the station?"
"Miss Meredith, there is no necessity for this haste. You cannot depart like this, and without advising your family."
I laid a dress—the little black dress I had worn at the dance—at the bottom of the box. It ought to have gone at the top, but such details did not occupy me at the moment.