“Yes, Mother, I will do what you want.”
“That’s a good child, run along now. I will have another talk when I have heard from the training college.”
For once her judgment was at fault; she thought Carlotta had taken it very well, and would be reconciled to her new life.
No sleep came to Carlotta that night. She tossed on her bed, and a dry fever tormented her.
“Oh, Holy Mother!” she prayed “take this shame from me, what can I do?”
When dawn came she was calm; she had made up her mind once and for all. She was Italian, and had not the calculating mind of the northerner; she would go to him, yes, this very evening, and her courage rose high at the thought.
Desmond was waiting by the wall; the Curse had driven him back. He must see her, if only to say good-bye. How often has the Devil tried this game with success.
She came to the wall, which on the garden side was low, and leant on the parapet. He noticed with a start that she was holding a little hand-bag, so small and dainty that even at the moment he wondered what on earth she could get into it.
“I am coming with you, if you will take me,” she said quite calmly.
“My God!” he said, staggering back, “do you mean it?”