Neither, Eccelenza, neither; he is a sort of connection----''

'Nothing of the kind,' broke in Gerald. 'I'm of the blood of the
Geraldines.'

'Native princes,' said the Contessina quickly. 'Irish, too! How came you
here?'

'He has been living with us, Eccelenza, for some months back,' chimed in
the steward; 'an honest Frate, one----'

'Let himself answer me,' said the Contessina.

'They took, me from the Jesuit college and placed me here,' said the
boy.

'Who do you mean by they?' asked she.

'The Frate, and the Count; perhaps, indeed, I owe the change more to
him.'

'What is his name?'

'I never heard it. I only saw him once, and then for a short time.'

'How old are you?'

'I think, fifteen.'

'Indeed. I should have thought you younger than I am,' said she, half
musingly.

'Oh, no; I look much, much older,' said Gerald, as he gazed at her
bright and beautiful features.

'Don Cesare,' said she, turning to a pale old man beside her, 'you must
write to the rector of the college, and let us learn about this boy--how
he came there, and why he left. And so,' said she, addressing Gerald,
'you think it beneath your quality to kiss a lady's hand?'

'No, no!' cried he rapturously, as he knelt down and pressed her hand to
his lips.

'It is not so you should do it, boy,' broke in the governante. 'Yours
has been ill training, wherever you have got it.'

'Alas! I have had little or none,' said Gerald sorrowfully.

'Pass on, boy; move on,' said the governante, and Gerald's head drooped
as his heavy footsteps stole along. He never dared to look up as he
went. Had he done so, what a thrill might his heart have felt to know
that the Contessina's eyes had followed him to the very door.

'There, you have done for me and yourself too, with your stupid pride
about your blood,' cried the Intendente, when they gained the courtyard.
'The next thing will be an order to send me to Rome, to explain why I
have taken you to live here.'

'Well, I suppose you can give your reasons for it,' said Gerald gravely.

'Except that it was my evil fortune, I know of none other/ broke out the
other angrily, and turned away. From each, in turn, of the family did
he meet with some words of sarcasm and reproof; and though Ninetta said
nothing, her tearful eyes and sorrow-stricken features were the hardest
of all the reproaches he endured.

'What am I, that I should bring shame and sorrow to those who befriend
me!' cried he, as with