are a dear, ignorant, flighty young gentleman," she said. "Nobody
can tell what a cross my sister is to me except the good priest in the
church where I go every day."

"And the mysterious lady in grey," I suggested sarcastically.

"Such a person might have guessed it," answered Therese, seriously, "but
I told her nothing except that this house had been given me in full
property by our Rita. And I wouldn't have done that if she hadn't spoken
to me of my sister first. I can't tell too many people about that. One
can't trust Rita. I know she doesn't fear God but perhaps human respect
may keep her from taking this house back from me. If she doesn't want me
to talk about her to people why doesn't she give me a properly stamped
piece of paper for it?"

She said all this rapidly in one breath and at the end had a sort of
anxious gasp which gave me the opportunity to voice my surprise. It was
immense.

"That lady, the strange lady, spoke to you of your sister first!" I
cried.

"The lady asked me, after she had been in a little time, whether really
this house belonged to Madame de Lastaola. She had been so sweet and
kind and condescending that I did not mind humiliating my spirit before
such a good Christian. I told her that I didn't know how the poor sinner
in her mad blindness called herself, but that this house had been given
to me truly enough by my sister. She raised her eyebrows at that but she
looked at me at the same time so kindly, as much as to say, 'Don't trust
much to that, my dear girl,' that I couldn't help taking up her hand,
soft as down, and kissing it. She took it away pretty quick but she was
not offended. But she only said, 'That's very generous on your sister's
part,' in a way that made me run cold all over. I suppose all the world
knows our Rita for a shameless girl. It was then that the lady took up
those glasses on a long gold handle and looked at me through them till I
felt very much abashed. She said to me, 'There is nothing to be unhappy
about. Madame de Lastaola is a very remarkable person who has done many
surprising things. She is not to be judged like other people and as far
as I know she has never wronged a single human being. . . .' That put
heart into me, I can tell you; and the lady told me then not to disturb
her son. She would wait till he woke up. She knew he was a bad sleeper.
I said to her: 'Why, I can hear the dear sweet gentleman this moment
having his bath in th