ches with a sewing-machine,' Angela
said, apparently in explanation.

'A telephone is different,' Madame Bernard answered gravely. 'Shall I
ask the Count to come to-morrow at four o'clock, instead of to-day?'

Angela hesitated, and then blushed faintly.

'Do you think----' she began, but she stopped and hesitated. 'He would
be angry, I am sure----' She seemed to be suddenly distressed.

'Your father?' asked the Frenchwoman, guessing what she meant. 'My
dear Princess----'

'Oh, please don't call me that!' cried Angela. 'You never do----'

'You see, you are a great personage now, my dear child,' Madame
Bernard answered, 'and I am no longer your governess----'

'But you are my friend, dear, dear Madame Bernard! Indeed, I think you
are my only friend now!'

And thereupon Angela threw her arms round the little woman's neck and
kissed her very affectionately. Madame Bernard's fresh face beamed
with pleasure.

'Thank you, my dear,' she answered. 'And as for your father, my child,
he is without doubt in heaven; and that means that he now judges you
by your intentions and no longer by appearances only.'

This sage little speech reassured Angela, though she soon afterwards
asked herself whether it was quite loyal to allow any one to say that
the Prince had ever judged her 'by appearances only.' But while she was
making this reflection Madame Bernard was already telephoning to
Giovanni, who was at the War Office, as Angela supposed, and he answered
with alacrity that he would come to the palace on the following
afternoon and ask to see Madame Bernard on a matter of business. It was
really her business to teach French, as all the servants knew, and if
they thought that the young officer came to ask about some lessons for
himself or a friend, so much the better. Madame Bernard was naturally
practical, and Giovanni was by nature quick-witted; so the matter was
settled in a few words, to the satisfaction of both; and when Angela was
merely told that he was coming she was much more pleased than she was
willing to show, and she said no more about her father's hypothetical
disapproval.

That afternoon she received the Marchesa del Prato and the lawyer
downstairs in the second of the outer drawing-rooms. It was cold there,
but she had not quite dared to order a fire to be made, because the
Prince had never allowed fires except in the inner rooms, which were
still closed under the notarial seals. The place had a certain grande