"No, but others might," she objected.
"But not the count—" Nino bit his lip, fearing he had betrayed himself.
"Nor the contessina," laughed the baroness, completing the sentence. He saw at a glance what she suspected, and instead of keeping cool grew angry.
"I came here, Signora Baronessa, not to be cross-examined, but to teach you Italian. Since you do not desire to study, I will say good-morning." He took his hat and moved proudly to the door.
"Come here," she said, not raising her voice, but still commanding. He turned, hesitated, and came back. He thought her voice was changed. She rose and swept her silken morning-gown between the chairs and tables till she reached a deep divan on the other side of the room. There she sat down.
"Come and sit beside me," she said, kindly, and he obeyed in silence.
"Do you know what would have happened," she continued, when he was seated, "if you had left me just now? I would have gone to the Graf von Lira and told him that you were not a fit person to teach his daughter; that you are a singer, and not a professor at all; and that you have assumed this disguise for the sake of seeing his daughter." But I do not believe that she would have done it.
"That would have been a betrayal," said Nino fiercely, looking away from her. She laughed lightly.
"Is it not natural," she asked, "that I should make inquiries about my Italian teacher before I begin lessons with him? And if I find he is not what he pretends to be should I not warn my intimate friends?" She spoke so reasonably that he was fain to acknowledge that she was right.
"It is just," he said, sullenly. "But you have been very quick to make your inquiries, as you call them."