She talks of my going to her then; but I cannot,--oh, I never can! for,--Lulu, she's married again, to an Italian count; and it is not a year since my dear, dear father was taken from us." Evelyn's voice was tremulous with pain, and she ended with a burst of bitter weeping.
"Oh, how could she!" exclaimed Lulu.

"I don't wonder you feel so about it, Eva.

A horrid Italian too!" she added, thinking of Signor Foresti.
"I'd never call him father!" "Indeed, I've no idea of doing that," Eva said indignantly.

"I only hope he may never cross my path; and so I--feel as if my mother is lost to me.

You are far better off than I, Lulu: you have your own dear father still living, and aunt Vi is so lovely and sweet." "Yes, I am better off than you," Lulu acknowledged emphatically; "and if I hadn't such a bad temper, always getting me into trouble, I'd be a girl to be envied.".