He was
not prepared for the answer he received.
"I am Veronica Serra," said the young girl, with a smile. "Society is
society. When we need each other, we will try and agree."
This was somewhat enigmatic, to say the least of it, and the cardinal
was not quite sure whether he understood it. He should be very sorry, he
said, to think that his old friend's daughter meant to cut herself off
from the world in which she had so important a part to play. Of course,
he had no longer any actual authority by which to direct her actions.
She was of age, and if she chose to live alone, without so much as an
elderly companion, no one could hinder her. To this Veronica promptly
answered that she had come to Bianca's house in order not to be alone.
"And why," inquired the cardinal, watching her face keenly, "have you
determined that you will no longer live with your aunt Macomer, who is
your only near relative and your natural companion?"
This was the real question, and Veronica had hoped that he would not ask
it; but being a good diplomatist, and knowing how hard it would be to
answer, the wise prelate had kept it back as a hammer with which to
drive the wedges he had previously inserted one by one.
"I had understood that you were always the best of friends," he added,
while she was silent for a moment.
"We have not agreed so well lately," said Veronica. "Besides, you could
hardly expect me to be happy in a house where such horrible things have
lately happened.
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