prettily to be thought so, and commonly succeeds in its
object, when assisted by an artistic feminine manner. Vittoria heard her
answer to the name of Mrs. Sedley. She had once known her as a Miss Adela
Pole. Amidst the cluster of assiduous gentlemen surrounding this lady it
was difficult for Vittoria's stolen glances to discern her husband; and
the moment she did discern him she became as indifferent to him as was
his young wife, by every manifestation of her sentiments. Mrs. Sedley
informed her lord that it was not expected of him to care, or to pretend
to care, for such scenes as the Motterone exhibited; and having dismissed
him to the shade of an umbrella near the provision baskets, she took her
station within a few steps of Vittoria, and allowed her attendant
gentlemen to talk while she remained plunged in a meditative rapture at
the prospect. The talk indicated a settled scheme for certain members of
the party to reach Milan from the Como road. Mrs. Sedley was asked if she
expected her brother to join her here or in Milan.

"Here, if a man's promises mean anything," she replied languidly.

She was told that some one waved a handkerchief to them from below.

"Is he alone?" she said; and directing an operaglass upon the slope of
the mountain, pursued, as in a dreamy disregard of circumstances: "That
is Captain Gambier. My brother Wilfrid has not kept his appointment.
Perhaps he could not get leave from the General; perhaps he is married;
he is engaged to an Austrian Countess, I have heard. Captain Gambier did
me the favour to go round to a place called Stresa to meet him. He has
undertaken the journey for nothing. It is the way with all journeys
though this" (the lady had softly reverted to her rapture) "this is too
exquisite! Nature at least does not deceive."

Vittoria listened to a bubbling of meaningless chatter, until Captain
Gambier had joined Mrs. Sedley; and at him, for she had known him
likewise, she could not forbear looking up. He was speaking to Mrs.
Sedley, but caught the look, and bent his head for a clearer view of the
features under the broad straw hat. Mrs. Sedley commanded him imperiously
to say on.

"Have you no letter from Wilfrid? Has the mountain tired you? Has Wilfrid
failed to send his sister one word? Surely Mr. Pericles will have made
known our exact route to him? And his uncle, General Pierson, could--I am
certain he did--exert his influence to procure him leave for a single
week to me