“Am I?” said Hannah, with the old, broad grin. “No one ever told me so afore! I thought as I was coming amongst grand folks, I ought to ’ave a nice frock, so I went to Madame Cusada and she made me this. I did feel so queer coming out to see you, as if I’d got next to nothing on.” “Never mind! It’s quite the fashion, you know, and you will soon get accustomed to it! You have a lovely neck and shoulders, Hannah! Who would think to see your hands, that they were so pink and soft! You must try and get your hands to look like them. They will soon, now that you do no rough work. I should like you to look nice always.” “Should you?” said Hannah. “I don’t think the Markiss cares ’ow I look! I ’ad to take the money out of ’is trouser pocket to buy this. I arsked ’im for some, but ’e’s so close, ’e wouldn’t give me any, so I just helped myself!” “O! Hannah! you mustn’t do that again. It’s stealing! And how vexed Ricardo would be, if he discovered the theft! Promise me, that you will never take his money again, without his leave.” “O! that’s all very well, but ’ow am I to get things else?” grumbled Hannah. “What’s the good of being a Markiness, if I’m to go about in the same old clothes day after day?” “Well! come to me when you want money! Treat me like a brother, and tell me all your troubles! I have more than I want--a great deal more--and will gladly supply anything that your husband is unable to afford you. For, you must remember, Hannah, he is very poor.” “Beastly poor!” echoed Hannah. “What a different life _your_ wife will lead! She’ll ’ave everything as ’er ’eart can wish for! Well! some people is borned lucky!” “But are not much the happier, all the same,” replied Von Steinberg, “if ever I should have a wife, as you suggest, she may envy you your robust health, and your youth, and your mystical powers, Hannah.” “Lor! they ain’t much good to me,” said the girl, “but if you likes ’em, you’re welcome to ’em, that’s all!” The Baron took out his purse. “That is very good of you to say, and if you will not feel offended, I should like to make you a little present in return for your kindness to me. You needn’t tell Ricardo, you know! Let it be a secret between you and me, and when you buy a pretty new frock or a hat with it, think it is a present from your old friend Karl von Steinberg.” He laid a note for twenty pounds upon her lap as he spoke, and as Hannah’s eyes fell upon it, the expression of her face changed. She took the note in her hands--smoothed it out lovingly--and turned eyes up to his, that were full of something more than gratitude--something, that made the young man stoop down and kiss her; then draw back, as if he had been shot. “That was wrong of me, Hannah,” he said, “I should not have done it! Will you forgive me? Ricardo would be awfully angry if he heard of it! He would say I was a traitor!” “He won’t hear of it,” replied Hannah quietly, as she gazed at the bank note.