“Perhaps I shan’t see him,” she said, smiling. “He mayn’t be up. It’s early, you know, Aunt Cosy.”
“If you do not see him,” said the Countess sharply, “then you must bring this parcel back at once to me! I thought I had made that quite clear, Lily?”
“I’m so sorry! I’ll be sure to deliver it to him.”
And then, to Lily’s surprise, Aunt Cosy suddenly drew her into her arms and kissed her with real affection.
“I feel, my little Lily, as if you brought good fortune to La Solitude! God knows I don’t want to be unfair to the Marchesa Pescobaldi, for she has been in some ways a good friend to my beloved son. But it is quite true that she has the Evil Eye! Look at what happened yesterday. There was no reason why they should have had that breakdown in the mountains—depriving Beppo of a delightful evening with you! I am very, very glad indeed that the Marchesa is going home to-morrow. You are our true mascot!”
Lily was touched and amused by these odd remarks. They had in them a thrill of reality, of truthfulness, which was very rare in Aunt Cosy’s voice and manner.
“I’m so sorry Beppo has to go away, too, to-morrow”, she said sympathetically.
“We shall see—we shall see! Perhaps it will be possible for him to stay on a little longer after all,” answered the Countess. But now she was speaking, or so the girl told herself, in her old, false, affected voice.
Lily took the precious parcel, and put it at the bottom of her basket. Then she went downstairs.
“Well, Cristina, is there really nothing you want me to do?”