"
As the Prince had been dead ten years, the Baroness thought that he
might not be wholly responsible for the ruin of his estate, but she
discreetly avoided the suggestion. She began to make a little apology
for her visit.
"But I am delighted to see you!" cried the Princess. "You can help me
to pack. You know I have not a single maid, not a woman in the house,
nor a man either. Those ridiculous servants fled last night as if we
had the plague!"
"So you are going out of town?" enquired the Baroness, laying down her
parasol.
"Of course. Clementina has decided to be a nun, and is going to the
convent this morning. So sensible of her, poor dear! It is true that
she has made up her mind to do it three or four times before now, but
the circumstances were different, and I hope this will be final. She
will be much happier."
The Princess stirred the muddy coffee in the chipped earthenware cup,
and then sipped it thoughtfully, sipped it again, and made a face.
"You see my breakfast," she said, and then laughed, as if the shabby
brass tray were a part of the train of amusing circumstances. "The
porter's wife went and got it at some dirty little cafe," she added.
"How dreadful!" exclaimed the Baroness, with more real sympathy in her
voice than she had yet shown.
"I assure you," the Princess answered serenely, "that I am glad to
have any coffee at all.
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