"To no one."
"Then no one must know."
I bowed. "It is for you to decide."
She paused. "Not even my mother," she continued, with a painful blush.
I looked at her in amazement. "Not even—?"
She shook her head sadly. "You think me a cruel daughter? Well—he was a cruel friend. What he did was done for Italy: shall I allow myself to be surpassed?"
I felt a pang of commiseration for the mother. "But you will at least tell the Countess—"
Her eyes filled with tears. "My poor mother—don't make it more difficult for me!"
"But I don't understand—"
"Don't you see that she might find it impossible to forgive him? She has suffered so much! And I can't risk that—for in her anger she might speak. And even if she forgave him, she might be tempted to show the letter. Don't you see that, even now, a word of this might ruin him? I will trust his fate to no one. If Italy needed him then she needs him far more to-day."