"I cannot see what my name has to do with it," she said. "It is not
much to be proud of, considering how my relatives behave."

"It is a great name," said the Baroness solemnly and emphatically.

"It was once," Sabina answered, leaning back in the low chair she had
taken, and looking at the ceiling. "My mother and my brother have not
added lustre to it, and I would much rather be called Signorina Emilia
Moscetti and be a governess, than be Sabina Conti and live on charity.
I have no right to what I do not possess and cannot earn."

"My dear child! This is rank socialism! I am afraid you talked too
long with Malipieri the other night."

"There is a man who works, though he has what you call a great name,"
observed Sabina. "I admire that. He was poor, I suppose--perhaps not
so poor as I am--and he made up his mind to earn his living and a
reputation."

"You are quite mistaken," said the Baroness drily.

Sabina looked at her in surprise.

"I thought he was a distinguished architect and engineer," she
answered.

"Yes. But he was never poor, and he will be very rich some day."

"Indeed!" Sabina seemed rather disappointed at the information.