"I shall certainly not let you have it," he answered, with cold irritation. "It is absurd!"
If Veronica had wanted the money to spend it on herself, she might have waited until he was cool again, in the evening, before insisting. But her blood rose, for she felt that it was for her poor people, starving, sick, frozen, shelterless, in distant Muro. She knew perfectly well what her rights were, and she asserted them then and there with a calm young dignity of purpose which terrified Gregorio more and more.
"This is very strange," she said. "I do not wish to say disagreeable things, Uncle Gregorio; we should both regret them. But you know that I am entitled to spend all my income as I please, and I must really beg you to get me this money at once. It is for a good purpose. The case is urgent. I am the proper judge of whether it is needed or not, and I have decided that I will give it. There is nothing more to be said."
"Except that I entirely refuse to listen to such words from my ward!" answered Gregorio, angrily.
"I appeal to you, Aunt Matilde," said Veronica, setting down her coffee cup upon the table and turning to the countess.
But Matilde knew well enough that her husband could not get the money.
She shook her head gravely and said nothing.
By this time Veronica was thoroughly determined to have her way.
"Very well," she answered calmly. "I shall telegraph to the cardinal. I understand that he is in Rome."
Gregorio turned away, and he felt that his knees were shaking under him. He knew well enough what the result would be if the cardinal's suspicions were aroused. Matilde saw the danger and interfered.
"I think you are pushing such a small matter to the verge of a quarrel, Gregorio," she said sweetly. "Since Veronica insists, you must give her the money. After all, it is hers, as she says."