“And what is your fortune apart from that, dear child?” asked the Countess abruptly.
It was rather an indiscreet thing to ask, but Lily had a straightforward nature, and, after all, she saw no reason for trying to parry the question. She had always heard that foreigners were very inquisitive.
“My father left me eight thousand pounds,” she said quietly. “But Uncle Tom would never take any of the interest of it for my education. He paid for everything, just as if I had been his daughter. So I have got a little over ten thousand pounds now—you see, my parents died when I was such a little child, and the money was very cleverly invested.”
“Ah, yes, poor little thing!” exclaimed the Countess affectionately. “Well, even that is a pretty fortune for a young girl!”
She waited a moment as if making a calculation. “That would bring in—yes, if well invested—not far from fifteen thousand francs a year, if I am right. Then you have the enjoyment of that now, dear child?”
“Yes,” said Lily, “I suppose I have.”
“No wonder you took the disappearance of the fifty pounds in so philosophical a manner!” the Countess laughed rather harshly.
They walked on a few steps. And then Aunt Cosy said suddenly: “You should not tell people of this money, Lily. I hope you do not talk freely to strangers?”
And then the girl did feel a little offended. “I’ve never spoken of my money matters to any living soul till to-day,” she said with some vehemence. “And I shouldn’t have said anything to you, Aunt Cosy, if you hadn’t asked me!”
“Ah, but it was right for me to know. I am your guardian for the moment. You have been entrusted to me. In Monte Carlo there are many—now what are they called in England? We have an expression of the kind in Italy, and there is yet another in France, but it is not so good as the English expression——”