Now
she was crouching in the corner trying to extract a circular note
from a kind of linen nose-bag which hung in chaste concealment
round her neck. She had been told that this was the only safe way
to carry money in Italy; it must only be broached within the
walls of the English bank. As she groped she murmured: "Whether
it is Mr. Beebe who forgot to tell Mr. Eager, or Mr. Eager who
forgot when he told us, or whether they have decided to leave
Eleanor out altogether--which they could scarcely do--but in any
case we must be prepared. It is you they really want; I am only
asked for appearances. You shall go with the two gentlemen, and I
and Eleanor will follow behind. A one-horse carriage would do for
us. Yet how difficult it is!"
"It is indeed," replied the girl, with a gravity that sounded
sympathetic.
"What do you think about it?" asked Miss Bartlett, flushed from
the struggle, and buttoning up her dress.
"I don't know what I think, nor what I want."
"Oh, dear, Lucy! I do hope Florence isn't boring you.
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