oreigner in
a country whose unsociable inhabitants appear to condemn him or her to a
condition of utter isolation. She was already regretting her headstrong
caprice; but to go back at once would have been to risk her reputation
as an intrepid traveller, so she made up her mind to be patient, and
kill time as best she could. With this noble resolution, she brought
out her crayons and colours, sketched views of the gulf, and did
the portrait of a sunburnt peasant, who sold melons, like any
market-gardener on the Continent, but who wore a long white beard, and
looked the fiercest rascal that had ever been seen. As all that was not
enough to amuse her, she determined to turn the head of the descendant
of the corporals, and this was no difficult matter, since, far from
being in a hurry to get back to his village, Orso seemed very happy at
Ajaccio, although he knew nobody there. Furthermore, Miss Lydia had a
lofty purpose in her mind; it was nothing less than to civilize this
mountain bear, and induce him to relinquish the sinister design which
had recalled him to his island. Since she had taken the trouble to study
the young man, she had told herself it would be a pity to let him
rush upon his ruin, and that it would be a glorious thing to convert a
Corsican.

Our travellers spent the day in the following manner: Every morning the
colonel and Orso went out shooting. Miss Lydia sketched or wrote letters
to her friends, chiefly for the sake of dating them from Ajaccio.
Toward six o'clock the gentlemen came in, laden with game. Then followed
dinner. Miss Lydia sang, the colonel went to sleep, and the young people
sat talking till very late.

Some formality or other, connected with his passports, had made it
necessary for Colonel Nevil to call on the prefect. This gentleman,
who, like most of his colleagues, found his life very dull, had been
delighted to hear of the arrival of an Englishman who was rich, a man of
the world, and the father of a pretty daughter. He had, therefore, given
him the most friendly reception, and overwhelmed him with offers of
service; further, within a very few days, he came to return his visit.
The colonel, who had just dined, was comfortably stretched out upon his
sofa, and very nearly asleep. His daughter was singing at a broken-down
piano; Orso was turning over the leaves of her music, and gazing at the
fair singer's shoulders and golden hair. The prefect was announced, the
piano stopped, the col