The American Baron | Page 7

had been interrupted.
"Kitty," said Minnie at last.
"What?" said her sister, looking up.
"I think you're horrid."
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Why, because when you see and know that I'm dying to speak to you, you go on reading that wretched book."
"Why, Minnie darling," said Mrs. Willoughby, "how in the world was I to know that you wanted to speak to me?"
"You might have known," said Minnie, with a pout--"you saw me look all round, and lock the door; and you saw how worried I looked, and I think it a shame, and I've a great mind not to tell you any thing about it."
"About it--what it?" and Mrs. Willoughby put down her book, and regarded her sister with some curiosity.
"I've a great mind not to tell you, but I can't help it. Besides, I'm dying to ask your advice. I don't know what to do; and I wish I was dead--there!"
"My poor Minnie! what is the matter? You're so incoherent."
"Well, Kitty, it's all my accident."
"Your accident!"
"Yes; on the Alps, you know."
"What! You haven't received any serious injury, have you?" asked Mrs. Willoughby, with some alarm.
"Oh! I don't mean that, but I'll tell you what I mean;" and here Minnie got up from her reclining position, and allowed her little feet to touch the carpet, while she fastened her great, fond, pleading, piteous eyes upon her sister.
"It's the Count, you know," said she.
"The Count!" repeated Mrs. Willoughby, somewhat dryly. "Well?"
"Well--don't you know what I mean? Oh, how stupid you are!"
"I really can not imagine."
"Well--he--he--he pro--proposed, you know."
"Proposed!" cried the other, in a voice of dismay.
"Now, Kitty, if you speak in that horrid way I won't say another word. I'm worried too much already, and I don't want you to scold me. And I won't have it."
"Minnie darling, I wish you would tell me something. I'm not scolding. I merely wish to know what you mean. Do you really mean that the Count has proposed to you?"
"Of course that's what I mean."
"What puzzles me is, how he could have got the chance. It's more than a week since he saved you, and we all felt deeply grateful to him. But saving a girl's life doesn't give a man any claim over her; and we don't altogether like him; and so we all have tried, in a quiet way, without hurting his feelings, you know, to prevent him from having any acquaintance with you."
"Oh, I know, I know," said Minnie, briskly. "He told me all that. He understands that; but he doesn't care, he says, if I only consent. He will forgive you, he says."
Minnie's volubility was suddenly checked by catching her sister's eye fixed on her in new amazement.
"Now you're beginning to be horrid," she cried. "Don't, don't--"
"Will you have the kindness to tell me," said Mrs. Willoughby, very quietly, "how in the world the Count contrived to tell you all this?"
"Why--why--several times."
"Several times!"
"Yes."
"Tell me where?"
"Why, once at the amphitheatre. You were walking ahead, and I sat down to rest, and he came and joined me. He left before you came back."
"He must have been following us, then."
"Yes. And another time in the picture-gallery; and yesterday in a shop; and this morning at the Cathedral."
"The Cathedral!"
"Yes, Kitty. You know we all went, and Lady Dalrymple would not go up. So Ethel and I went up. And when we got up to the top I walked about, and Ethel sat down to admire the view. And, you know, I found myself off at a little distance, when suddenly I saw Count Girasole. And then, you know, he--he--proposed."
Mrs. Willoughby sat silent for some time.
"And what did you say to him?" she asked at length.
"Why, what else could I say?"
"What else than what?"
"I don't see why you should act so like a grand inquisitor, Kitty. You really make me feel quite nervous," said Minnie, who put her little rosy-tipped fingers to one of her eyes, and attempted a sob, which turned out a failure.
"Oh, I only asked you what you told him, you know."
"Well," said Minnie, gravely, "I told him, you know, that I was awfully grateful to him, and that I'd give any thing if I could to express my gratitude. And then, you know--oh, he speaks such darling broken English--he called me his 'mees,' and tried to make a pretty speech, which was so mixed with Italian that I didn't understand one single word. By-the-way, Kitty, isn't it odd how every body here speaks Italian, even the children?"
"Yes, very odd; but, Minnie dear, I want to know what you told him."
"Why, I told him that I didn't know, you know."
"And then?"
"And then he took my hand. Now, Kitty, you're unkind. I really can not tell you all this."
"Yes, but I only ask so as to advise you. I want to know how the case stands."
"Well, you