how to say it: it's on account of
something--ages ago, before I was born--in her life."

"Something? What sort of thing?" I asked as if I myself could have no
idea.

"Oh, she has never told me," Miss Tita answered; and I was sure she was
speaking the truth.

Her extreme limpidity was almost provoking, and I felt for the moment
that she would have been more satisfactory if she had been less
ingenuous. "Do you suppose it's something to which Jeffrey Aspern's
letters and papers--I mean the things in her possession--have
reference?"

"I daresay it is!" my companion exclaimed as if this were a very happy
suggestion. "I have never looked at any of those things."

"None of them? Then how do you know what they are?"

"I don't," said Miss Tita placidly. "I have never had them in my hands.
But I have seen them when she has had them out."

"Does she have them out often?"

"Not now, but she used to. She is very fond of them."

"In spite of their being compromising?"

"Compromising?" Miss Tita repeated as if she was ignorant of the meaning
of the word. I felt almost as one who corrupts the innocence of youth.

"I mean their containing painful memories."

"Oh, I don't think they are painful."

"You mean you don't think they affect her reputation?"

At this a singular look came into the face of Miss Bordereau's niece--a
kind of confession of helplessness, an appeal to me to deal fairly,
generously with her. I had brought her to the Piazza, placed her among
charming influences, paid her an attention she appreciated, and now I
seemed to let her perceive that all this had been a bribe--a bribe to
make her turn in some way against her aunt. She was of a yielding nature
and capable of doing almost anything to please a person who was kind to
her; but the greatest kindness of all would be not to presume too much
on this. It was strange enough, as I afterward thought, that she had
not the least air of resenting my want of consideration for her aunt's
character, which would have been in the worst possible taste if anything
less vital (from my point of view) had been at stake. I don't think she
really measured it. "Do you mean that she did something bad?" she asked
in a moment.

"Heaven forbid I should say so, and it's none of my business. Besides,
if she did," I added, laughing, "it was in other ages, in another world.
But why should she not destroy her papers?"

"Oh, she loves them too much."

"Even now, when she may be