of the Princess Fürstenberg; not like her cousin; dear little Madame Mila was all good nature, all kindliness, all heart.
At the Fiera for the orphan children the week before had not dear little Madame Mila slaved herself to death; bustling about in the most bewitching costume; whirling like a little Japanese wind-mill; wearing the loveliest little muslin apron, with huge pockets, into which thousands of francs were poured; turning the lottery-wheel indefatigably for three days, and selling cigars she had lighted, and lilies of the valley she had kissed, at the most fabulous prices for the good of the poor? And had not Lady Hilda contemptuously refused to have anything to do with the Fiera at all?
The almoner of the charities, indeed, had received a fifty-thousand franc note anonymously. But then, how could anybody divine that the Lady Hilda had sent it because a chance word of Della Rocca's had sunk into her mind? "Whereas everybody saw Madame Mila whirling, and saying so prettily, "Pour nos pauvres!—pour nos chers pauvres!"
