“I slept there last night,” said Beppo quickly. “And perhaps because, thanks to you, I now have all that money, mamma, I have become a miser! I want to take care of this money—to make use of it. I do not want it to slip away in hotel bills!”
“It will not slip away,” said his mother quietly. “And thanks to this money, there is no need for undue haste. I swear to you, Beppo, that if you are patient you will win Lily at last.”
“Perhaps you are right, mamma—you are so often right! I will go back to where I started with Lily. She told me not many days ago that I was almost her ideal of—what do you think, mamma?”
“Tell me?” cried the Countess eagerly.
“Of a brother—only that!” he laughed rather harshly. “At any rate she shall be my dear little sister till I go away the day after to-morrow.”
“And do not give a jealous thought to that dull Scotsman,” said his mother lightly. “His French friend is going back to Paris very soon, and I have an idea that he will then go away, too. Without being vain you can tell yourself, Beppo, that you are very much more attractive than Captain Angus Stuart!”
He was surprised to hear her pronounce so easily the curious Scottish name.
“I am not really jealous of the man. She hardly knows him—I know that,” he said in a satisfied tone.
And his mother was glad indeed that she had not told him the little that she knew.
“You have made me feel quite happy again mamma! I know that you are right, and that I was a fool to be so impatient. But it is hard to be forced to go slow, as the English say, when one adores a woman!”