“I’ve promised to dine with M. Popeau. But I believe”—she hesitated—“that he is going to take me into the Club.”
“Then we shall meet once again—so? I am glad!”
To Lily’s relief, Aunt Cosy made no objection at all to her spending the evening with M. Popeau and Captain Stuart. In fact, she seemed pleased rather than otherwise that the girl should be going to do what must yet seem to Continental ideas a very unconventional thing.
But perhaps because she now knew that her son intended to stay on for a little longer in Monte Carlo, the Countess’s manner was extraordinarily effusive. She seemed excited, unlike herself—indeed, her air of contentment, almost of joy, was in curious contrast to Cristina’s overcast countenance. The old woman looked nervous, unhappy, and ill at ease; and when fastening up Lily’s pretty evening frock she gave a long, convulsive sigh.
“Is anything the matter, Cristina?”
“No, Mademoiselle. There is nothing more the matter than there has been for a very long time,” was the cryptic answer.
At a quarter to eight M. Popeau called for Lily, and during the rapid drive down into Monte Carlo he observed suddenly:
“The Countess does not look like herself to-night. I wonder what has happened to so excite and please her? Have you any idea of the reason?”
He asked the question in a very peculiar tone, and Lily, surprised, answered: “Beppo is staying on in Monte Carlo. He may even come to La Solitude for a few days. That is quite enough to account for Aunt Cosy’s good humour.”