“Because it would be very dangerous for you to leave the bank on foot with so much money on your person. Bad characters hang about banks to see what money is drawn out—then they snatch the bag or purse into which it has been put.”
“I see,” said Lily slowly. She felt extremely, horribly uncomfortable at the thought of what she was going to do for Aunt Cosy.
“While you are at Monte Carlo, would it not be well to send a telegram to Mr. Bowering, just to say that you have received his communication? It might be well also to instruct him to purchase a handsome wreath. After all, you owe that, dear child, to dear Cousin Rosa!”
Lily made no answer to that suggestion, and a few minutes later she and Cristina started off for the town. The money, contained in a huge envelope which was fully addressed, as Lily noticed, to herself, at La Solitude, lay at the bottom of the big market basket carried by the old waiting woman.
They had been walking for a few minutes when suddenly Lily’s companion slipped, and would have fallen had not the girl caught her strongly by the arm.
“You ought not to have come out to-day, Cristina!” exclaimed Lily. “I saw this morning that you were really ill.”
“I got up too early, Mademoiselle,” said Cristina in a dull tone. “So I am very, very tired. Still, I am glad to be with you, and away from La Solitude!”
“Surely it isn’t necessary for you to go to church, especially on a week-day, so very early?” said the girl impulsively.
“I ought never to go into a church.” Cristina was speaking in an almost inaudible voice. “I am not worthy to enter the House of God. But, Mademoiselle, I feel so safe there. As you know, the Devil hates holy water. He cannot follow me past the porch.”
She spoke in such a suffering, troubled tone that Lily had not the heart to smile at her extraordinary words. In a sense she was awed and moved by the sincerity of Cristina’s faith, even if she, Lily, thought it a curiously superstitious faith.