“No, dear madame; nothing. My passing mood was not worth your attention. A vain regret given to lost treasures, or perhaps only to imaginary treasures that I never really possessed. I will try to overcome my tendency to fall into these moods,” answered Lilith, with an effort to collect herself.
“Some day, my dear, you will tell me of your past life—a short story, it must be—as frankly as I have told you of mine. I will wait patiently until then. But, little one, we have talked and mused, and mused and talked, until the hours have slipped by us unheeded, and now it is so late that you must either stay all night, or allow me to send for a carriage at once to take you home.”
“Oh, thank you, madame. I must go home. Late as it is, Aunt Sophie will expect me,” said Lilith.
Madame Von Bruyin touched the timbre, and ordered the attendant who answered the summons to procure a carriage.
While Lilith was putting on her hat and gloves the baroness said:
“You may tell this dear Aunt Sophie of the power I intend to place in her hands to help the poor little children.”
“Oh, dear madame, how good you are! But I would rather not tell her. I would rather you should do so first, for the sake of seeing the happy surprise that will light up her face,” said Lilith.
“Very well, then. You may expect me to-morrow morning at the house,” said the baroness.
The attendant entered the room and announced the carriage.
“Ask Monsieur Le Grange to be good enough to step here,” said the baroness.