Again Veronica read the letter carefully over, and she put it into the desk. Half an hour later she went to luncheon. The meal was as silent and gloomy as usual, and scarcely half a dozen words were said. Afterwards the three came back to the yellow drawing-room for their coffee. When the servant was gone, Veronica, stirring the sugar in her cup, turned to her uncle.
"Will you please give me three thousand francs, Uncle Gregorio?" she asked quietly. "I want it this afternoon, if you please."
Gregorio Macomer grew slowly white to the tips of his ears. Matilde sipped her coffee, and turned her back to the light.
"Three thousand francs!" repeated Macomer, slowly recovering a little self-control. "My dear child! What can you want of so much money?".
"Is it so very much?" asked Veronica, innocently surprised. "You have told me that I have more than eight hundred thousand a year. It is for charity. The people at Muro have no hospital. I shall be glad if you will give it to me before four o'clock; I wish to send it at once."
Macomer had barely a thousand francs in the house, and he knew that there was not a man of business in Naples who would have lent him half the little sum for which Veronica was asking.
"I shall certainly not give you money for any such absurd purpose," said
Gregorio, with sudden, assumed sternness.
Veronica raised her eyes in quiet astonishment, offended, but not disconcerted.
"Really, Uncle Gregorio," she said, "as I am of age and mistress of whatever is mine, I think I have a right to my little charities. Besides, you know, it is not giving, since you are no longer my guardian in reality. It is merely a case of sending to the bank for the money, if you have not got it in the house. I should like it before four o'clock, if you please, Uncle Gregorio."
In his terror the man lost his temper.