an
I wanted, of the only man I ever loved--your father--and when I married
his brother I swore that she should pay me for that, and she has! If
she can see you as you are to-day, all heaven cannot dry her tears,
for all heaven itself cannot give you a name, since the one on her own
tombstone is not hers by any right. I hope she sees you! Oh, I hope it
was not for nothing that she fasted till she fainted, and prayed till
she was hoarse, and knelt in damp churches till she died of it! I hope
she has starved and whined her way to paradise and is looking down at
this very moment and can see her daughter turned out of my house, a
pauper foundling, to beg her bread! I hope you are in a state of
grace, as she is, and that the communion of saints brings you near
enough together for her to see you!'

'You are mad,' Angela said when the Princess paused for breath. 'You
do not know what you are saying. Let go of my wrist and try to get
back to your senses!'

Whether the Princess was really out of her mind, as seemed at least
possible, or was only in one of her frequent fits of rage, the words
had an instantaneous effect. She dropped Angela's wrist, drew herself
up, and recovered her self-control in a few seconds. But there was
still a dangerous glare in her cat-like eyes as she turned towards the
window and faced the dull yellowish light of the late afternoon.

'You will soon find out that I have not exaggerated,' she said, dropping
from her late tone of fury to a note of icy coldness. 'The seals will be
removed to-morrow at noon, and I suppose no one can prevent you from
being present if you choose. After that you will make such arrangements
for your own future as you see fit. I should recommend you to apply to
one of the two convents on which my brother-in-law lavished nearly three
millions of francs during his life. One or the other of them will
certainly take you in without a dowry, and you will have at least a
decent roof over your head.'

With this practical advice the Princess Chiaromonte swept from the
room and Angela was left alone to ask herself whether such a sudden
calamity as hers had ever before overtaken an innocent girl in her
Roman world. She went back very slowly to the sofa and sat down again
under the great Vandyke portrait; her eyes wandered from one object to
another, as if she wished to make an inventory of the things that had
seemed to be hers because they had been her father's, but she was far
too com