“That was before,” cried Mattina, wildly, beginning to sob. “That was before I had this. This is mine! It is mine! On my father’s soul, I tell you it is mine!”
“If it be yours,” asked one of the sisters, “where did you find it?”
“She gave it to me.”
“She! What she?”
“She, the Madmazella from the next house.”
“She tells lies!” broke in her mistress. “A governess, who works one day that she may eat the next! Has she money to give?”
“When did she give it to you?” asked the master.
“When she went away in the carriage to go to her country.”
Then they all laughed.
“Ah, of course, you thought of someone who has gone away and whom we cannot ask! You are very clever, my girl, but your cleverness will not pass with us!”