"What have I done now?" said Roma, and the radiant look in her face

provoked the old lady to still louder denunciations.

"What have you done? Mercy me!... Give me my salts, Natalina!"

"Natalina," said Roma quietly, "lay out my studio things, and if Bruno

has gone, tell Felice to light the lamps and see to the stove

downstairs."

The old lady fanned herself with her embroidered handkerchief and began

again.

"I thought you meant to mend your ways when you came in yesterday,

miss--you were so meek and modest. But what was the fact? You had come

to me straight from that man's apartments. You had! You know you had!

Don't try to deny it."

"I don't deny it," said Roma.

"Holy Virgin! She doesn't deny it! Perhaps you admit it?"

"I do admit it."

"Madonna mia! She admits it! Perhaps you made an appointment?"

"No, I went without an appointment."

"Merciful heavens! She is on such terms with the man that she can go to

his apartments without even an appointment! Perhaps you were alone with

him, miss?"

"Yes, we were quite alone," said Roma.

The old lady, who was apparently about to faint right away, looked up at

her little shrine, and said: "Goodness! A girl! Not even a married woman! And without a maid, too!"

Trying not to lose control of herself, Roma stepped to the door, but her

aunt followed her up.

"A man like that, too! Not even a gentleman! The hypocrite! The

impostor! With his airs of purity and pretence!"

"Aunt Betsy," said Roma, "I was sorry I spoke to you as I did the other

night, not because anything I said was wrong, but because you are weak

and bedridden and suffering. Don't provoke me to speak again as I spoke

before. I did go to Mr. Rossi's rooms yesterday, and if there is any

fault in that, I alone am to blame."

"Are you indeed?" said the old lady, with a shrill, piping cry. "Holy

Saints! she admits so much! Do you know what people will call you when

they hear of it? A hussy! A shameless hussy!"

Roma was flaming up, but she controlled herself and put her hand on the

door-handle.

"They will hear of it, depend on that," cried the Countess. "Last

night at dinner the women were talking of nothing else. Felice heard all

their chattering. That woman let the dog out to follow you, knowing it

would go straight to the man's rooms. 'Whom did it come home with,

Felice?' 'Donna Roma, your Excellency.' 'Then it's clear where Donna

Roma had been.' Ugh! I could choke to think of it. My head is fit to

split! Is there any cognac...?"




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