“Heavens! Assunta, you will not go there yourself?” exclaimed the astonished Clara. “I dare say it is some filthy hole, and perhaps the woman may have fever. Send a messenger with some money. I'll give her five dollars.”
“Thank you. I will take the five dollars to her willingly,” replied the young girl; “but I will take myself too. I can easily walk,” she added, looking for permission to her guardian, as the occasion was exceptional.
Displeasure at his sister's thoughtlessness was evident in Mr. Carlisle's tone, as he said:
“You will go in the carriage, Assunta, and I will accompany you. We will return for Clara after the visit. Giovanni, order a basket of provisions to be put up before one o'clock, and be ready yourself to go with us and take charge of it; and now that the matter is settled, we will have some breakfast.”
Poor Mrs. Grey looked disconcerted; but she thought it her duty to make a further protest.
“You surely will not wear that dress, Assunta? It will never be fit to put on again.”
Mr. Carlisle laughed outright at this new objection, while Assunta said with a smile:
“Why, Clara, have you so soon forgotten your admiration of Mrs. Browning's Court Lady, who put on her silks and jewels, and went to the hospital as to the court of the king? On the same principle I should be arrayed in purple and fine linen, for I am going to the court of the King of kings; and if I am not very much mistaken, this same poor woman, whose contact you fear so much, will find her place very near to the throne in the ranks of the celestial nobility. However, I should be sorry to ruin my new dress, as you predict, and I will be very careful.”
The breakfast was soon despatched, the carriage came punctually to the door, and Mr. Carlisle and his ward drove rapidly towards the miserable home of the poor woman, who, in the midst of her poverty, possessed a faith at which Assunta often wondered.
“You are very kind, Mr. Carlisle,” she said. “I am sorry I have given you so much trouble.”