orbed me," he said evasively. "One forgets a
good deal; but if you want to see a really charming valley, we had better
go farther on. Then I think I can show you one."

Virginia's pretty brows, which were many shades darker than her hair,
drew together. "But I don't want to go farther," she said. "And I like
this valley."

"Spoilt child!" ejaculated the Englishman, who claimed rights of
cousinship, though by birth Virginia was American.

At that moment two members of the riding party, who had contrived to be
left behind, came leisurely up. One was a very handsome, dark woman, who
succeeded in looking not more than thirty, the other a young man of
twenty-five, enough like Virginia to suggest that they were brother and
sister.

"What are you stopping for?" inquired Lady Gardiner, who would not have
been sorry to keep her friends in advance.

"Waiting for you," said Virginia promptly. "I want to explore this
valley."

As she spoke she gave her mare a little pat on the velvety neck. The
animal, which was Virginia's own, brought from her namesake state, had
never known the touch of the whip, but understood the language of hand
and voice. She went off at a trot up the shadowed road; and the Marchese
Loria was the first to follow. But he bit his lip under the black
moustache, pointed in military fashion at the ends, and appeared more
annoyed than he need because a pretty girl had insisted upon having her
own way.

It was not yet cold, as he had prophesied, but it was many degrees cooler
than in the sunshine; and as they rode on the valley narrowed, the soft
darkness of the olive grove closing in the white road that overhung the
rock-bed of the river.

The hills rose higher, shutting out the day, and there was a brooding
silence, only intensified by the hushed whisper of the water among its
pebbles.

The shoulders of the heights were losing their gold glitter now; and
Virginia had a curious sensation of leaving reality behind and entering a
mysterious dreamland.

For a long time they rode without speaking. Then Virginia broke the spell
of constraint which had fallen upon them.

"Where are the persons who gather the olives?" she asked of the Italian,
who rode almost sullenly beside her.

"This isn't the time of year for that," he replied, more abruptly than
was his custom in speaking to her.

"I never saw such a deserted place!" exclaimed the girl. "We have ridden
ever so far into the valley now--two miles at l