“When Beppo is here you will be very gay!” the Countess had exclaimed the night before. “I do not care for Monte Carlo. But you and Uncle Angelo will be there a great deal. Beppo knows all the smart set in London and in Paris as well as in Rome! I hope you have brought some pretty clothes with you, dear child. If not, perhaps it would be well to purchase one or two new dresses, eh?”
“Yes, perhaps I ought to get a few things,” said Lily smiling. “I’ve hardly had anything new since the war. At first I felt it to be wrong; later on everything became so dear!”
“You will not find anything very cheap here,” said Aunt Cosy, shaking her head.
And now, on this Sunday morning, she was sorry that she only had the plain black coat and skirt she had arrived in from London. Still, when she went into the kitchen, on her way out, Cristina looked up, and smiled at her very kindly. “Mademoiselle looks as fresh as a rose,” she exclaimed.
“I’m going to church,” said Lily. “Is there anything I can do for you in the town?”
And then Cristina said that she would be very grateful if Mademoiselle would do a little commission. Not in the town, but on the hill, at the cottage near the chapel where they sold her new-laid eggs. “Has Mademoiselle time to do this before going down to church?”
“Heaps of time,” said Lily gaily, and then she added: “Now that my friends are back in Monte Carlo I hope I shall be able to join the tennis club, so you’ll get rid of me sometimes, Cristina!”
And then Cristina said something which touched the English girl. “I shall miss you very much, my little lady. You are a ray of sunshine in this lonely house.” And the old woman sighed, a long-drawn-out, mournful sigh.
When Lily found herself on the rough path leading upwards towards the top of the great hill she was amazed at the destruction the storm had wrought. Even the sturdy olive trees had suffered, and the more delicate flowering bushes were beaten to the earth.