'She is thought very strange, of course. But she sees whom she likes. And they mostly bore her to death!' Madame Grandoni added, with a laugh.
'Why then do you tell me this country pleases her?'
Madame Grandoni left her place. She had promised Christina, who detested the sense of being under the same roof with her husband, that the Prince's visit should be kept within narrow limits; and this movement was intended to signify as kindly as possible that it had better terminate. 'It is the common people that please her,' she replied, with her hands folded on her crumpled satin stomach and her humorous eyes raised to his face. 'It is the lower orders, the basso popolo.'
'The basso popolo?' The Prince stared, at this fantastic announcement.
'The povera gente,' pursued the old lady, laughing at his amazement.
'The London mob—the most horrible, the most brutal———?'
'Oh, she wishes to raise them.'
'After all, something like that is no more than I had heard,' said the Prince gravely.
'Che vuole? Don't trouble yourself; it won't be for long!'
Madame Grandoni saw that this comforting assurance was lost upon him; his face was turned to the door of the room, which had been thrown open, and all his attention was given to the person who crossed the threshold. Madame Grandoni transferred her own to the same quarter, and recognised the little artisan whom Christina had, in a manner so extraordinary and so profoundly characteristic,
