The marchesa had a vague suspicion that she was mocking and thought her a dangerous woman.
"And you, has our religion no charm for you?"
"A great deal! I have a great feeling for beautiful churches and pictures. But that is an artistic conception. You will not understand it perhaps, for I don't think you are artistic, marchesa? And marriage also has charms for me, a marriage like Urania's. Couldn't you help me too some time, marchesa? Then I will spend a whole winter in your pension and—who knows?—perhaps I too shall become a Catholic. You might give Rudyard another chance, with me; and, if that didn't succeed, the two monsignori. Then I should certainly become converted.... And it would of course be lucrative."
The marchesa looked at her haughtily, white with rage:
"Lucrative?..."
"If you get me an Italian title, but accompanied by money, of course it would be lucrative."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, ask the old prince, marchesa, or the two monsignori."
"What do you know about it? What are you thinking of?"
"I? Nothing!" Cornélie answered, coolly. "But I have second sight. I sometimes suddenly see a thing. So keep on friendly terms with me and don't pretend again to forget an old boarder.... Is this the Princess Urania's room? You go in first, marchesa; after you...."