The girl's face was
quite grave.
"You had better think of getting rich in some other way, my dear," said
the Contessa presently, with an asperity that did not escape Aurora, but
produced no impression on her.
"I was only supposing," she said. "But if it comes to that, it would be
much better for him to marry me than that good-looking peasant girl he
has picked up."
The Contessa sat up straight and stared at her in astonishment. There
was a coolness in the speech that positively horrified her.
"My dear child!" she cried. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"Regina," answered Aurora, looking up, and throwing the hat upon the
table. "I am talking about Marcello's Regina. Did you suppose I had
never heard of her, and that I did not guess that it was she, the other
night? I had a good look at her. I hate her, but she is handsome. You
cannot deny that."
"I do not deny it, I'm sure!" The Contessa hardly knew what to say.
"Very well. Would it not be much better for Marcello if he married me
than if he let Regina marry him, as she will!"
"I--possibly--you put it so strangely! But I am sure Marcello will never
think of marrying her."
"Then why does he go about with her, and what is it all for?" Aurora
gazed innocently at her mother, waiting for an answer which did not
come. "Besides," she added, "the girl will marry him, of course."
"Perhaps. I daresay you are right, and after all, she may be in love
with him.
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