gh indeed he had been there, was somewhere else when she
bent down with outstretched hand. That evening old Friend was in good
spirits, and determined to play at not being caught. He would tempt
Carlotta, and then slip through her fingers, taking refuge under the
piano, or under the table, from whence he would peer out at the poor
woman with ironical waggings of his tail, while Carlotta's lips said,
"Come, come, dear!" and her heart said, "Ugly beast!"

"Friend!" exclaimed the Marchesa. "That will do, Friend! Be good!"

Franco was boiling. The nasty little monster, imbued with his mistress'
arrogance and egotism, paused at his feet, and Franco rolled him roughly
towards Carlotta, who grabbed him, and punished him with an angry
squeeze, and then carried him off, answering his whines with deceitful
words of pity. "What did they do to you, poor Friend? What did they do
to you? Tell us all about it!"

The Marchesa made no remarks, nor did her marble countenance betray her
feelings. She ordered the footman to tell the prefect of the Caravina,
or any one else who might call, that his mistress had retired. Franco
started to leave the room behind the servants, but checked himself at
once, that he might not appear to be running away. He took a number of
the _Imperial and Royal Gazette_ of Milan from the mantel-shelf, and
seating himself near his grandmother, began reading while he waited.

"I congratulate you heartily on the good manners and fine sentiments you
displayed to us to-day," the sleepy voice began, almost immediately.

"I accept your congratulations," Franco retorted, without raising his
eyes from his paper.

"Well done, my dear!" his immovable grandmother replied, and added: "I
am glad that young girl had the opportunity of seeing you as you are,
because, supposing she may have heard of a certain project, she will now
be very glad it is no longer thought of."

"Then we are both satisfied!" said Franco.

"You cannot in the least tell if you are going to be satisfied.
Especially if you still hold the views you once held."

Upon this, Franco put his paper down, and looked his grandmother full in
the face.

"What would happen," he said, "if I still held the same views I once
held?"

This time he did not speak in a challenging tone, but with quiet
seriousness.

"Ah! That is right!" the Marchesa exclaimed. "Let us speak plainly! I
hope and believe that a certain event will never take place, but should
it tak