no difference. I remembered it well the day I heard of your mother's death!"
"Ah, that was a sorrow!" said the Countess. "There's not a day that I don't weep for her. But che vuole? She's a saint in paradise."
"Sicuro," I answered; and I looked some time at the ground. "But tell me about yourself, dear lady," I asked at last, raising my eyes. "You have also had the sorrow of losing your husband."
"I am a poor widow, as you see. Che vuole? My husband died after three years of marriage."
I waited for her to remark that the late Count Scarabelli was also a saint in paradise, but I waited in vain.
"That was like your distinguished father," I said.
"Yes, he too died young. I can't be said to have known him; I was but of the age of my own little girl. But I weep for him all the more."
Again I was silent for a moment.
"It was in India too," I said presently, "that I heard of your mother's second marriage."
The Countess raised her eyebrows.
"In India, then, one hears, of everything! Did that news please you?"
