RODERICK HUDSON
"That 's a pretty state of mind," said the old lady, "for a young person who's going to be so great."
Christina shrugged her shoulders. "Every one expects me to go into ecstasies over my greatness. Could anything be more vulgar? Let others do the gloating. Mamma will do any amount. Will you let me stay to dinner?"
"If you can dine on black bread and onions. But I imagine you 're expected at home."
"Nothing 's more certain. Prince Casamassima dines there en famille. I 'm not of his family yet!"
"Do you know you're very wicked?" the old lady asked. "I 've half a mind not to keep you."
Christina dropped her eyes reflectively. "I wish awfully you 'd let me stay," she said. "If you want to cure me of my wickedness you must be very patient and kind with me. It will be worth the trouble. You must show confidence in me." And she gave Rowland another look. Then suddenly, in a different tone, "I don't know what I'm saying!" she wailed. "I'm weary and dreary; I 'm more lonely than ever; I wish I were dead!" The tears rose to her eyes, she struggled with them an instant and buried her face in her muff; but at last she burst into uncontrollable sobs, flinging herself on Madame Grandoni's neck. This shrewd woman gave Rowland a significant nod and a little shrug over the young girl's beautiful bowed head, and then led Christina tenderly away into the adjoining room. Rowland, left alone, stood there for an instant, intolerably puzzled, face to face with Miss Light's poodle, who had set up a sharp unearthly cry of sym-
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