"Do you think that I look very discontented, then?" she asked.
"No," said the old lady, eying her again. "No, you look very contented—at present. Isn't that a beautiful forest?"
It was an abrupt change of the subject, but Stella was equal to it.
"I have been admiring it since I came in," she said; "it is like fairy land."
"Go and enter it," said the old countess—"I am going to sleep for exactly ten minutes. Will you come back to me then? You see, I am very frank and rude; but I am very old indeed."
Stella rose with a smile.
"I think you are very kind to me," she said.
The old countess looked up at the beautiful face with the dark, soft eyes bent down on her; and something like a sigh of regret came into her old, keen eyes.
"You know how to make pretty speeches, my dear," she said. "You learnt that in Italy, I expect. Mind you come back to me."
Then, as Stella moved away, the old lady looked after her.