Ruald sniffed again, darted a glance at Lalette, another at the door, and stepped close. “I have heard that you belong to one of the families of the Blue Star.” “Who told you that?” “It does not matter. Is it true?” The dame’s lips worked. “And what if it is?” “Why this, dame: it will not peril your soul to place a small witchery—” “No, no, I couldn’t do such a thing. You have no right to ask me.” The man’s face sneered. “I have a right to ask you for my money, though.” “No, no, I tell you.” Her hands waved the air. “That Dame Sauglitz, they punished her with five years and stripes.” “They will punish nobody for this; utterly private between you and myself. Is not your skill enough so that no suspicion of witchery will fall on you? Come, I’ll do better. I’ll more than forgive the arrears, I’ll give you quit-rent for four other months to come.” “Mother,” said Lalette from the corner. Dame Leonalda turned around. “This does not concern you,” she said, and to Ruald; “But how am I to know that having done as you wish, you’ll not denounce me before the episcopals?” “Why as for that, might I not want your help another time?” She put up a protesting hand, but he; “Come, no more stories. I’ll—” There was another tap at the door. Ruald looked annoyance as Dame Leonalda crossed the room in another rustle of skirts. Her voice was almost gay. “Come in, Uncle Bontembi.” Rain shook shining from his cloak. “Ah, charming Dame Leonalda.” The paunch hindered his bow. “The greetings of the evening to you, Ser Ruald. Why, this is a true evening gathering.” “I was just leaving,” said Ruald, tugging at his jacket. “Well, then, Dame Leonalda, bear in mind what I have said. I’m sure we’ll reach accommodation.” She did not get up as he went. When the door was closed she turned to Uncle Bontembi. “It is such a problem, dear Uncle,” she said. “Of course the child is perfectly right in a way, and it would be different if her father had left her anything at all, but with such a man as Cleudi—” “The Count is a splendid gentleman,” said the priest. “I have seen him lose fifty gold scudi on a turn, but never his composure. And he is in high favor. Is there a problem relative to him? Not that his eye has fallen on our little Lalette? I would call that a matter for consent and rejoicing.” “Ah, Uncle, it is this, if men only behaved as nobly toward women as they do to each other! He has set his eye on this dear child indeed, but not his hand, and says he will pay all our debts and give her a hundred gold scudi besides, if she will only accompany him to the opera and ball of the spring festival.” Uncle Bontembi plucked at the button of his chin, and the smile left his face. “Hm, hm, it is certainly on the face of matters a proposal . . . You are certain you have not been employing the Art, Dame Leonalda?” “Oh, no, never, never. And my dear little girl, how could she?”