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Updated: May 25, 2025
He told himself Carlotta should be a veritable princess, should go always clad in the finest, have of the best, be surrounded always by the most beautiful. She should know only joy and light and laughter. Thinking these thoughts, Carlotta's father sighed. For now at last Carlotta wanted something he could not give her, was learning after twenty-two years of cloudless joy the bitter way of tears.
She had also seen him smuggle a three-cornered note between Carlotta's fingers, and Carlotta had definitely refused to surrender the billet-dour. "What is the modern course of treatment," I asked, "prescribed for young ladies who flirt with grocers' assistants? In Renaissance times she could be whipped.
There, conversing with Pasquale and lolling on the sofa, as if she had known him for years, was Carlotta. She must have seen righteous disapprobation on my face, for she came running up to me. "You see, I've made Miss Carlotta's acquaintance," said Pasquale. "So I perceive," said I. "Stenson told me you wanted me to come to the drawing-room in my red slippers," said Carlotta.
Nobody expects a flower to give account of itself and flower-like Carlotta was very, very lovely as she leaned against the granite rock with the valley at her feet. So Phil Lambert's eyes told her eloquently. The valley was not the only thing at Carlotta's feet. "I labored under the impression that I did the bringing up myself," he remarked, his hand closing over hers.
If you were in love yourself you would know how much that amounts to by way of freedom." Carlotta's golden head was bowed. She did not answer her friend's implication that she could not be expected to comprehend the delicate, invisible, omnipotent shackles of love. "Don't tell anyone, Carlotta, please. It is our secret Alan's and mine. Maybe it will always he a secret unless he measures up."
The trouble with the situation was that it was such a sharp change from his recent free and to him delightful mode of existence that it was almost painful. He could see that everything appeared to be satisfactory to her, that she thought all his days had been moral and full of hard work. Carlotta's presence in the background was not suspected.
Carlotta's suggestion, or rather command, had been far from grateful to his inclinations, yet it had forced him towards the less of two evils, and for a few minutes he had imagined himself with Christopher's cheque in his pocket, immediate salvation and peace assured whatever it might cost him eventually. And now this telegram! Impatiently Bullard touched him on the arm.
An inner voice, an ironical, sardonic inner voice with which there is no arguing, tells me that I am a hypocrite; that an interest in Carlotta's spiritual development is a nice, comforting, high-sounding phrase which has deluded philosophic guardians of female youth for many generations.
Now suddenly grey beard and slippered pantaloons are cast aside and I am young again with a glow in my heart which beats fast at her beauty. I shut my teeth. "No," said I to myself. "The curtain shall not rise on that farcical tragedy again." I threw the reins on the neck of Carlotta's mule, which with its companion had been regarding us with bland stupidity.
But scarcely had those few individuals effected their retreat in this manner, when a tremendous crash was heard, cries and shrieks of horror and dismay burst from those who had not as yet passed through the opening, and then the roof of the chamber of penitence and all the adjacent cells gave way with a din as of a thousand cannon, burying beneath their weight the sextoness, the five penitents, the inmates of Carlotta's cell, and seven of the banditti.
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