ano. It isn't fair."

But in a moment she laughed with her cruel laugh, as if she pitied the
confusion that Renovales showed when he saw her anger. "You are
pardoned, master. A kiss on the hand means nothing. It is the
conventional thing. Many men kiss my hand."

And this indifference was a bitter torment for the artist, who
considered that his kiss was a sign of possession.

The countess continued to search in the darkness, repeating in an
irritated voice:

"Light, turn on the light. Where in the world is the button?"

The light was turned on without Mariano's moving, before she found the
button she was looking for. Three clusters of electric lights flashed
out on the ceiling of the studio, and their crowns of white needles,
brought out of the shadows the golden picture frames, the brilliant
tapestries, the shining arms, the showy furniture and the bright-colored
paintings.

They both blinked, blinded by the sudden brightness.

"Good evening," said a honeyed voice from the doorway.

"Josephina!"

The countess ran toward her, embracing her effusively, kissing her
bright red, emaciated cheeks.

"How dark you were," continued Josephina with a smile that Renovales
knew well.

Concha fairly stunned her with her flow of chatter. The illustrious
master had refused to light up, he liked the twilight. An artist's whim!
They had been talking about their dear Josephina, while she was waiting
for her carriage to come. And as she said this, she kept kissing the
little woman, drawing back a little to look at her better, repeating
impetuously:

"My, how pretty you are to-day. You look better than you did three days
ago."

Josephina continued to smile. She thanked her. Her carriage was waiting
at the door. The servant had told her when she came downstairs,
attracted by the distant sound of the organ.

The countess seemed to be in a hurry to leave. She suddenly remembered a
host of things she had to do, she enumerated the people who were waiting
for her at home. Josephina helped her to put on her hat and veil and
even then the countess gave her several good-by kisses through the veil.

"Good-by, _ma chere_. Good-by, _mignonne_. Do you remember our school
days? How happy we were there! Good-by, _maitre_."

She stopped at the door to kiss Josephina once more.

And finally, before she disappeared, she exclaimed in the querulous tone
of a victim who wants sympathy:

"I envy you, _cherie_. You, at least, are happy. Y