Bice!"

"Contessa," said Lucy with an effort, looking up with a smile through some
tears, "I am not like that. It never was that you were--disagreeable. How
could you be disagreeable? And Bice is--oh, so kind, so good to my boy.
You must never think of it more. The town house is not so large as the
Hall, but we shall find room in it. Oh, I am not so heartless, not so
stupid, as you think! Do you suppose I would let you go away after you
have been so kind as to open your heart to me, and let me know that we
are really of use? Oh, no, no! And I am sure," she added, faltering
slightly, "that Tom--will think the same."

"It is not Tom--excellent, _cher_ Tom! that shall be consulted," cried
the Contessa. "Lucy, my little angel! if it is really so that you will
give my Bice the advantage of your protection for her _debut_---- But
that is to be an angel indeed, superior to all our little, petty,
miserable---- Is it possible, then," cried the Contessa, "that there is
some one so good, so noble in this low world?"

This gratitude confused Lucy more than all the rest. She did her best to
deprecate and subdue; but in her heart she felt that it was a great
sacrifice she was making. "Indeed, it is nothing," she said faintly. "I
am fond of her, and she has been so good to baby; and if we can be of
any use--but oh, Madame di Forno-Populo," Lady Randolph cried, taking
courage. "Her _debut_? do you really mean what she says that she must
marry----"

"That I mean to marry her," said the Contessa, "that is how we express
it," with a very concise ending to her transports of gratitude. "Sweet
Lucy," she continued, "it is the usage of our country. The parents, or
those who stand in their place, think it their duty. We marry our
children as you clothe them in England. You do not wait till your little
boy can choose. You find him what is necessary. Just so do we. We choose
so much better than an inexperienced girl can choose. If she has an
aversion, if she says I cannot suffer him, we do not press it upon her.
Many guardians will pay no attention, but me," said the Contessa,
putting forth a little foreign accent, which she displayed very
rarely--"I have lived among the English, and I am influenced by their
ways. Neither do I think it right," she added, with an air of candour,
"to offer an old person, or one who is hideous, or even very
disagreeable. But, yes, she must marry well. What else is there that a
girl of family can do?"

Lucy w