n't pry."

She marched cheerfully to the fountain and back, and did a few
calculations in realism. Then she said that she had been in the
Piazza since eight o'clock collecting material. A good deal of it was
unsuitable, but of course one always had to adapt. The two men had
quarrelled over a five-franc note. For the five-franc note she should
substitute a young lady, which would raise the tone of the tragedy, and
at the same time furnish an excellent plot.

"What is the heroine's name?" asked Miss Bartlett.

"Leonora," said Miss Lavish; her own name was Eleanor.

"I do hope she's nice."

That desideratum would not be omitted.

"And what is the plot?"

Love, murder, abduction, revenge, was the plot. But it all came while
the fountain plashed to the satyrs in the morning sun.

"I hope you will excuse me for boring on like this," Miss Lavish
concluded. "It is so tempting to talk to really sympathetic people.
Of course, this is the barest outline. There will be a deal of local
colouring, descriptions of Florence and the neighbourhood, and I shall
also introduce some humorous characters. And let me give you all fair
warning: I intend to be unmerciful to the British tourist."

"Oh, you wicked woman," cried Miss Bartlett. "I am sure you are thinking
of the Emersons."

Miss Lavish gave a Machiavellian smile.

"I confess that in Italy my sympathies are not with my own countrymen.
It is the neglected Italians who attract me, and whose lives I am going
to paint so far as I can. For I repeat and I insist, and I have always
held most strongly, that a tragedy such as yesterday's is not the less
tragic because it happened in humble life."

There was a fitting silence when Miss Lavish had concluded. Then the
cousins wished success to her labours, and walked slowly away across the
square.

"She is my idea of a really clever woman," said Miss Bartlett. "That
last remark struck me as so particularly true. It should be a most
pathetic novel."

Lucy assented. At present her great aim was not to get put into it. Her
perceptions this morning were curiously keen, and she believed that Miss
Lavish had her on trial for an ingenue.

"She is emancipated, but only in the very best sense of the word,"
continued Miss Bartlett slowly. "None but the superficial would be
shocked at her. We had a long talk yesterday. She believes in justice
and truth and human interest. She told me also that she has a high
opinion of the destiny of wo