Now, to-night, the thought of him was overwhelmingly present, though she had no reason to suppose that she would ever again be brought face to face with his strange, sinister, and, yes, insolent personality. She hoped with all her heart that Beppo was in no way in his power.
She walked up on to the terrace and knocked lightly on one of the drawing-room shutters, for so she had arranged to do with Cristina. What seemed a long time, perhaps five minutes, went by, and she knocked again, a little louder this time. And then, at last, she heard the window within being opened, and the shutter unbarred.
It was Aunt Cosy who let her in—Aunt Cosy, who so very seldom sat up after half-past nine.
“I thought Beppo would have returned with you,” said the Countess, and there were both regret and relief struggling in her voice. “I have been listening for the sound of a motor, though I did not expect you to be so soon back, dear child.”
Lily felt rather guilty, nervously afraid lest Aunt Cosy should cross-examine her as to how she had got home, and who had brought her back. She told herself desperately that if she was thus questioned she would take a leaf out of Aunt Cosy’s own book and say that M. Popeau had brought her back!
But Aunt Cosy asked no questions. Instead she only said in a preoccupied way: “And now we will go to bed.”
“I’ll go to the kitchen, and get my candlestick,” Lily said, but Aunt Cosy stopped her with a peremptory: “I have your candlestick here,” and sure enough, to the girl’s secret surprise, she saw that there was a candlestick put ready for her on Uncle Angelo’s card-table.
After they had made their way up the narrow, steep staircase together, Lily turned to receive Aunt Cosy’s usual good night embrace, but the Countess exclaimed: “I will come into your room for a moment, my dear!”—and when they were inside the door, she shut it quietly.
“I have a piece of news for you,” she said slowly; “it is bad news, Lily.” There was a very curious look, certainly not a look of sadness, on the speaker’s face. “I did not wish to spoil your pleasure this afternoon, or I should have told you then,” she added.
Every vestige of colour drained itself from Lily’s face.