"A fine thing, truly," she exclaimed, abruptly, "to go to a midnight mass to stare at a good-looking boy—under the very nose, too, speaking with respect, of the santissimo!"
Bianca flushed. "He looked at me!" she said, indignantly.
"It is the same thing," returned Bettina—"at least," she added, "it is generally the same thing—in the end. Holy Virgin! what would her excellency say—and Monsieur l'Abbé—if they knew such a thing? And the insolence of it! He looked—and looked! Signorina, it is a thing unheard of—"
"What thing?" interrupted Bianca, tranquilly.
"What thing?" repeated Bettina, somewhat taken aback. "Why—why—oh, well," she added, hastily, "it doesn't matter what thing—only, for the love of God, signorina, do not let her excellency know that you spoke to the Signorina Rossano to-night!"
"There was no harm," replied Bianca. "I only wished her a good Christmas—"
"No harm—perhaps not!" returned Bettina; "but, signorina, I do not wish to find myself in the street, you understand—and it is I who would be blamed."
Bianca raised her head proudly. "You need not be afraid," she said. "I do not allow others to be blamed for what I do. As to the Signorina Rossano, I have made her acquaintance, and I mean to keep it. For the rest, it is not necessary to say when or how I made it. Come, Bettina, I hear footsteps."
"You will make the acquaintance of the other one, too," Bettina said to herself—"but who knows whether you will keep it? Mali!" and with a sharp shrug of the shoulders she walked by Bianca's side in silence until they reached Palazzo Acorari, where the porter, who was waiting for them at the entrance, let them through the gateway and lighted them up the dark staircase to the doors of the piano nobile.
IV