The Contessa smiled with mournful meaning and shook her head. "A great deal of harm has touched me," she said; "I am the very person to meet with harm in the world. A solitary woman without any one to take care of me, and also a very silly one, with many foolish tastes and inclinations. Not prudent, not careful, my Lucy, and with very little money; what could be more forlorn? You see," she said, with a smile "I do not put all this blame upon Providence, but a great deal on myself. But to put me out of the question----"
Lucy put a hand upon the Contessa's arm. She was much moved by this revelation.
"Oh! don't do that," she said; "it is you I want to hear of."
Madame di Forno-Populo had an object in every word she was saying, and knew exactly how much she meant to tell and how much to conceal. It was indeed a purely artificial appeal that she was making to her companion's feelings; and yet, when she looked upon the simple sympathy and generous interest in Lucy's face, her heart was touched.
"How good you are," she said; "how generous! though I have come to you against your will, and am staying--when I am not wanted."
"Oh! do not say so," cried Lucy with eagerness; "do not think so--indeed, it was not against my will. I was glad, as glad as I could be, to receive my husband's friend."
"Few women are so," said the Contessa gravely. "I knew it when I came. Few, very few, care for their husband's friend--especially when she is a woman----"
Lucy fixed her eyes upon her with earnest attention. Her look was not suspicious, yet there was investigation in it.
"I do not think I am like that," she said simply.
"No, you are not like that," said the Contessa. "You are the soul of candour and sweetness; but I have vexed you. Ah, my Lucy, I have vexed you. I know it--innocently, my love--but still I have done it. That is one of the curses of poverty. Now look," she said, after a momentary pause, "how truth brings truth! I did not intend to say this when I began" (and this was perfectly true), "but now I must open my heart to you. I came without caring much what you would think, meaning no harm--Oh, trust me, meaning no harm! but since I have come all the advantages of being here have appeared to me so strongly that I have set my heart upon remaining, though I knew it was disagreeable to you."