At breakfast in the morning, the twins' charm of manner and easy and
polished bearing made speedy conquest of the family's good graces. All
constraint and formality quickly disappeared, and the friendliest feeling
succeeded. Aunt Patsy called them by their Christian names almost from
the beginning. She was full of the keenest curiosity about them, and
showed it; they responded by talking about themselves, which pleased her
greatly. It presently appeared that in their early youth they had known
poverty and hardship. As the talk wandered along, the old lady watched
for the right place to drop in a question or two concerning that matter,
and when she found it, she said to the blond twin, who was now doing the
biographies in his turn while the brunette one rested:

"If it ain't asking what I ought not to ask, Mr. Angelo, how did you come
to be so friendless and in such trouble when you were little? Do you mind
telling? But don't, if you do."

"Oh, we don't mind it at all, madam; in our case it was merely
misfortune, and nobody's fault. Our parents were well to do, there in
Italy, and we were their only child. We were of the old Florentine
nobility"--Rowena's heart gave a great bound, her nostrils expanded, and
a fine light played in her eyes--"and when the war broke out, my father
was on the losing side and had to fly for his life. His estates were
confiscated, his personal property seized, and there we were, in Germany,
strangers, friendless, and in fact paupers. My brother and I were ten
years old, and well educated for that age, very studious, very fond of
our books, and well grounded in the German, French, Spanish, and English
languages. Also, we were marvelous musical prodigies--if you will allow
me to say it, it being only the truth.