go to an
hotel--he, the owner of the whole place.

Rose listened to this speech wide-eyed with amazement. Mrs.
Fisher laughed very much as she made it. Lotty laughed very much too,
and at the end of it bent down and kissed her again--kissed her several
times.

"So you see, my dear boy," said Mrs. Fisher, "you must stay here
and give us all a great deal of pleasure."

"A great deal indeed," corroborated Mr. Wilkins heartily.

"A very great deal," repeated Mrs. Fisher, looking exactly like a
please mother.

"Do," said Rose, on Briggs's turning inquiringly to her.

"How kind of you all," he said, his face broad with smiles. "I'd
love to be a guest here. What a new sensation. And with three such--"

He broke off and looked round. "I say," he asked, "oughtn't I to
have a fourth hostess? Francesca said she had four mistresses."

"Yes. There's Lady Caroline," said Lotty.

"Then hadn't we better find out first if she invites me too?"

"Oh, but she's sure--" began Lotty.

"The daughter of the Droitwiches, Briggs," said Mr. Wilkins, "is
not likely to be wanting in the proper hospitable impulses."

"The daughter of the--" repeated Briggs; but he stopped dead, for
there in the doorway was the daughter of the Droitwiches herself; or
rather, coming towards him out of the dark doorway into the brightness
of the sunset, was that which he had not in his life yet seen but only
dreamed of, his ideal of absolute loveliness.

Chapter 19

And then when she spoke . . . what chance was there for poor
Briggs? He was undone. All Scrap said was, "How do you do," on Mr.
Wilkins presenting him, but it was enough; it undid Briggs.

From a cheerful, chatty, happy young man, overflowing with life
and friendliness, he became silent, solemn, and with little beads on
his temples. Also he became clumsy, dropping the teaspoon as he handed
her her cup, mismanaging the macaroons, so that one rolled on the
ground. His eyes could not keep off the enchanting face for a moment;
and when Mr. Wilkins, elucidating him, for he failed to elucidate
himself, informed Lady Caroline that in Mr. Briggs she beheld the owner
of San Salvatore, who was on his way to Rome, but had got out at
Mezzago, etc. etc., and that the other three ladies had invited him to
spend the night in what was to all intents and purposes his own house
rather than an hotel, and Mr. Briggs was only waiting for the seal of
her approval to this invitation, she be