to
her mother as she walked.

"Signor Lamberti is going," she said.

There was a little rustle of thin silk in the distance, and the Countess
appeared at the door and came forward.

"Well?" she asked, as she met Lamberti in the middle of the room.

"Your daughter has decided to do what seems best for everybody,"
Lamberti said. "She will tell you all about it. Let me thank you for
having allowed me to talk it over with her. Good night."

"Do stay and have some tea!" urged the Countess, and she wondered why
Cecilia, standing behind Lamberti, frowned and shook her head. "Of
course, if you will not stay," she added hastily, "I will not try to
keep you. Pray give my best messages to Signor d'Este, and tell him how
distressed I am, and say--but you will know just what to say, I am sure.
Good night."

Lamberti bowed and shook hands. As he turned, he met Cecilia face to
face and bade her good night again. She nodded rather coldly, and then
went quickly to ring the bell for the footman.

CHAPTER XXI

Princess Anatolie was very angry when she learned that Cecilia was
breaking her engagement, and she said things to the poor Countess which
she did not regret, and which hurt very much, because they were said
with such perfect skill and knowledge of the world that it was
impossible to answer them and it did not even seem proper to show any
outward resentment, considering that Cecilia's conduct was apparently
indefensible. As it is needless to say, the Princess appeared to regret
the circumstance much more for Cecilia's sake than for Guido's. She said
that Guido, of course, would soon get over it, for all men were
perfectly heartless in reality, and could turn from one woman to another
as carelessly as if women were pictures in a gallery. She really did not
think that Guido had much more heart than the rest of his kind, and he
would soon be consoled. After all, he could marry whom he pleased, and
Cecilia's fortune had never been any object to him. She, his thoughtful
and affectionate aunt, would naturally leave him her property, or a
large part of it. Guido was not at all to be pitied.

But Cecilia, poor Cecilia! What a life she had before her, sighed the
Princess, after treating a man in such a way! Of course, she could never
live in Rome after this, and as for Paris, she would be no better off
there. Guido's friends and relations were everywhere, and none of them
would ever forgive