Veronica intended to go away
in a cab, and it would be the question of a moment only to call one.
When all was ready, Elettra went out for that purpose herself, and
Veronica went without hesitation to Matilde's room. When she entered,
the countess was alone, propped with pillows on a low couch near the
fire. Her large white hands lay listlessly upon the dark shawl that was
drawn over her, and she had thrown a piece of thick black lace over her
head. It was nearly four o'clock, and the light was already waning, so
that, as she lay with her back to the window, Veronica could hardly see
her face. She raised her head slowly and wearily as the young girl
entered, and then started visibly, as she recognized her.
"It is I," said Veronica, when she had closed the door.
She came and stood beside the couch on which her aunt lay, and she
looked down at the reclining woman. Matilde's listless hands suddenly
clasped each other.
"Yes," she answered, with an effort. "Are you going out? Are you well
enough to go out?" she asked, adding the last question quickly.
"I should go if I were much more ill than I have been," Veronica
replied. "I am not coming back."
"Not coming back?" Surprise brought energy into Matilde's voice.
"No. I am not coming back. Do not be astonished. I understand what has
happened, and I am going to a safer place."
"What? How? I do not understand." Matilde spoke rapidly and unsteadily.
"You must stay here--Gregorio is going to send for the chief of
police--there will be an inquiry, and you must answer questions--we
suspect one of the servants, who has a grudge against your uncle, and
who has tried to murder us all in revenge--"
"Yes," said Veronica, calmly.
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