“Oh she’s kind, most kind; it’s altogether wonderful. But Rosy makes her considerably less wretched,” Muniment added.
“Very likely, of course; and so she does me.”
“May I inquire what you’re wretched about?” he went on.
“About nothing at all. That’s the worst of it. But I’m much happier now than I’ve ever been.”
“Is that also about nothing?”
“No, about a sort of change that has taken place in my life. I’ve been able to do some little things.”
“For the poor, I suppose you mean. Do you refer to the presents you’ve made to Rosy?” the young man asked.
“The presents?” She appeared not to remember. “Oh those are trifles. It isn’t anything one has been able to give. It’s some talks one has had, some convictions one has arrived at.”
“Convictions are a source of very innocent pleasure,” said the young man, smiling at his interlocutress with his bold, pleasant eyes, which seemed to project their glance further and drive it harder than any she had seen.
“Having them’s nothing. It’s the acting on them,” the Princess replied.