The Heart of Rome | Page 8

Yet so overpowering is the moral domination
of the born aristocrat over the born snob, that the Baroness changed her
mind, and humbly took the obnoxious tray away and set it down on
another table near the door.
"Thank you so much," said the Princess graciously. "It smells, you
know."
"Of course," answered the Baroness. "It is not coffee at all! It is made
of chicory and acorns."
"I do not know what it is made of," said the Princess, without interest,

"but it has an atrociously bad smell, and it has made a green stain on
my handkerchief."
She looked at the bit of transparently fine linen with which she had
touched her lips, and threw it under the table.
"And Sabina?" began the Baroness. "What shall you do with her?"
"I wish I knew! You see, my daughter-in-law has a little place
somewhere in the Maremma. It is an awful hole, I believe, and very
unhealthy, but we shall have to stay there for a few days. Then I shall
go to Poland and see my brother. I am sure he can arrange everything at
once, and we shall come back to Rome in the autumn, of course, just as
usual. Sassi told me only last week that two or three millions would be
enough. And what is that? My brother is so rich!"
The stout Princess shrugged her shoulders carelessly, as if a few
millions of francs more or less could really not be such a great matter.
Somebody had always found money for her to spend, and there was no
reason why obliging persons should not continue to do the same. The
Baroness showed no surprise, but wondered whether the Princess might
not have to lunch, and dine too, on some nauseous little mess brought
to her on a battered brass tray. It was quite possible that she might not
find five francs in her purse; it was equally possible that she might find
five thousand; the only thing quite sure was that she had not taken the
trouble to look, and did not care a straw.
"Can I be of any immediate use?" asked the Baroness with unnecessary
timidity. "Do you need ready money?"
"Ready money?" echoed the Princess with alacrity. "Of course I do! I
told you, Sassi says that two or three millions would be enough to go
on with."
"I did not mean that. I am afraid--"
"Oh!" ejaculated the Princess with a little disappointment. "Nothing
else would be of any use. Of course I have money for any little thing I

need. There is my purse. Do you mind looking? I know I had two or
three thousand francs the other day. There must be something left.
Please count it. I never can count right, you know."
The Baroness took up the mauve morocco pocket-book to which the
Princess pointed. It had a clasp in which a pretty sapphire was set; she
opened it and took out a few notes and silver coins, which she counted.
"There are fifty-seven francs," she said.
"Is that all?" asked the Princess with supreme indifference. "How very
odd!"
"You can hardly leave Rome with so little," observed the Baroness.
"Will you not allow me to lend you five hundred? I happen to have a
five hundred franc note in my purse, for I was going to pay a bill on my
way home."
"Thanks," said the Princess. "That will save me the trouble of sending
for Sassi. He always bores me dreadfully with his figures. Thank you
very much."
"Not at all, dear friend," the Baroness answered. "It is a pleasure, I
assure you. But I had thought of asking if you would let Sabina come
and stay with me for a little while, until your affairs are more settled."
"Oh, would you do that?" asked the Princess with something like
enthusiasm. "I really do not know what to do with the girl. Of course, I
could take her to Poland and marry her there, but she is so peculiar,
such a strange child, not at all like me. It really would be immensely
kind of you to take her, if your husband does not object."
"He will be delighted."
"Yes," acquiesced the Princess calmly. "You see," she continued in a
meditative tone, "if I sent her to stay with any of our cousins here, I am
sure they would ask her all sorts of questions about our affairs, and she
is so silly that she would blurt out everything she fancied she knew,

whether it were true or not--about my son and his wife, you know, and
then, the money questions. Poor Sabina! she has not a particle of tact! It
really would be good of you to take her. I shall be so grateful."
"I will