Now, for the first time, it did strike her as very strange that Beppo should look so well-to-do, so entirely the idle man of fashion, while she knew the money his parents received from her as their paying guest meant so much to them. Once or twice the Countess had spoken to her as though Beppo was concerned with big business affairs; but if that were so, how could the small amount of money his mother might, or might not, send him, make the slightest difference to his movements?
On going downstairs, Lily went into the kitchen to see if she could help Cristina. The old woman was standing there, a smile on her face. She looked extraordinarily happy. She took hold of the girl’s hand.
“How do you like our Beppo?” she said eagerly. “He is so kind, so generous, and so very, very handsome—do you not think so?”
Lily laughed. “Yes, I think he is very handsome,” she said frankly. “And very like his mother.”
“No, no!” Cristina frowned. “He is like his grandfather, the Count’s father. He was a beautiful man, and a friend of the first King of Italy.”
Beppo’s coming had quite changed Cristina: she looked much more alive, and talked in an eager, decided way.
“Can I help you at all?” asked Lily.
“Everything is ready! I did not use any of the child’s money. I gave it him all back. The Count and Countess had already bought everything. We shall have a feast to-night!”
“I’m sorry he’s not staying here,” said Lily slowly.
Cristina gave her a curious look. “You ask him to come!” she exclaimed. She evidently thought that Lily was sorry for her own sake. As a matter of fact, Lily was now only sorry for Aunt Cosy’s sake.