dged it better to be civil also."

"And of what did you talk?"

"The weather--there will be rain, he says, by tomorrow evening--the
other towns, England, myself, about you a little, and he actually
mentioned Lilia. He was perfectly disgusting; he pretended he loved
her; he offered to show me her grave--the grave of the woman he has
murdered!"

"My dear Miss Abbott, he is not a murderer. I have just been driving
that into Harriet. And when you know the Italians as well as I do, you
will realize that in all that he said to you he was perfectly sincere.
The Italians are essentially dramatic; they look on death and love as
spectacles. I don't doubt that he persuaded himself, for the moment,
that he had behaved admirably, both as husband and widower."

"You may be right," said Miss Abbott, impressed for the first time.
"When I tried to pave the way, so to speak--to hint that he had not
behaved as he ought--well, it was no good at all. He couldn't or
wouldn't understand."

There was something very humorous in the idea of Miss Abbott approaching
Gino, on the Rocca, in the spirit of a district visitor. Philip, whose
temper was returning, laughed.

"Harriet would say he has no sense of sin."

"Harriet may be right, I am afraid."

"If so, perhaps he isn't sinful!"

Miss Abbott was not one to encourage levity. "I know what he has
done," she said. "What he says and what he thinks is of very little
importance."

Philip smiled at her crudity. "I should like to hear, though, what he
said about me. Is he preparing a warm reception?"

"Oh, no, not that. I never told him that you and Harriet were coming.
You could have taken him by surprise if you liked. He only asked for
you, and wished he hadn't been so rude to you eighteen months ago."

"What a memory the fellow has for little things!" He turned away as he
spoke, for he did not want her to see his face. It was suffused with
pleasure. For an apology, which would have been intolerable eighteen
months ago, was gracious and agreeable now.

She would not let this pass. "You did not think it a little thing at the
time. You told me he had assaulted you."

"I lost my temper," said Philip lightly. His vanity had been appeased,
and he knew it. This tiny piece of civility had changed his mood. "Did
he really--what exactly did he say?"

"He said he was sorry--pleasantly, as Italians do say such things. But
he never mentioned the baby once."

What did the baby matter when the