Zoe had an inward struggle. As Miss Maitland opened her bedroom door, she
called to her: "Aunt! one word. Was it you that ordered the fire in my
bedroom?"
Now, if she had received the answer she expected, she meant to say, "Then
please let me forget everything else you have said or done to-day." But
Miss Maitland stared a little, and said, "Fire in your bedroom? no."
"Oh! Then I have nothing to thank you for this day," said Zoe, with all
the hardness of youth; though, as a general rule, she had not her share
of it.
The old lady winced visibly, but she made a creditable answer. "Then, my
dear, you shall have my prayers this night; and it does not matter much
whether you thank me for them or not."
As she disappeared, Zoe flung herself wearily on a couch, and very soon
began to cry. Fanny ran to her and nestled close to her, and the two had
a rock together, Zoe crying, and Fanny coaxing and comforting.
"Ah!" sighed Zoe, "this was the happiest day of my life; and see how it
ends. Quarreling; and deceit! the one I hate, the other I despise. No,
never again, until I have said my prayers, and am just going to sleep,
will I cry 'O giorno felice!' as I did this afternoon, when the rain was
pouring on me, but my heart was all in a glow.
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