would pass, and I should be living with my father
and Plantagenet together, and they should be bosom friends. You see,
George, we must never despair.'

'Under this bright sun,' said Captain Cadurcis, 'one is naturally
sanguine, but think of me alone and in gloomy England.'

'It is indeed a bright sun,' said Venetia; 'how wonderful to wake
every morning, and be sure of meeting its beam.'

Captain Cadurcis looked around him with a sailor's eye. Over the
Apennines, towards Genoa, there was a ridge of dark clouds piled up
with such compactness, that they might have been mistaken in a hasty
survey for part of the mountains themselves.

'Bright as is the sun,' said Captain Cadurcis, 'we may have yet a
squall before night.'

'I was delighted with Venice,' said his companion, not noticing his
observation; 'I think of all places in the world it is one which
Plantagenet would most admire. I cannot believe but that even his
delicious Athens would yield to it.'

'He did lead the oddest life at Athens you can conceive,' said Captain
Cadurcis. 'The people did not know what to make of him. He lived in
the Latin convent, a fine building which he had almost to himself,
for there are not half a dozen monks. He used to pace up and down the
terrace which he had turned into a garden, and on which he kept all
sorts of strange animals. He wrote continually there. Indeed he did
nothing but write. His only relaxation was a daily ride to Piraeus,
about five miles over the plain; he told me it was the only time in
his life he was ever contented with himself except when he was at
Cherbury. He always spoke of London with disgust.'

'Plantagenet loves retirement and a quiet life,' said Venetia; 'but he
must not be marred with vulgar sights and common-place duties. That is
the secret with him.'

'I think the wind has just changed,' said Captain Cadurcis. 'It seems
to me that we shall have a sirocco. There, it shifts again! We shall
have a sirocco for certain.'

'What did you think of papa when you first saw him?' said Venetia.
'Was he the kind of person you expected to see?'

'Exactly,' said Captain Cadurcis. 'So very spiritual! Plantagenet said
to me, as we went home the first night, that he looked like a golden
phantom. I think him very like you, Venetia; indeed, there can be no
doubt you inherited your face from your father.'

'Ah! if you had seen his portrait at Cherbury, when he was only
twenty!' said Venetia. 'That was a golden ph