rs. Winchfield's letter for a long
while.

"The daughter of a lord, and the widow of a duke, and the niece-in-law
of a cardinal," he said. "And, as if that were not enough, a bigoted
Roman Catholic into the bargain.... And yet--and yet," he went on,
taking heart a little, "as for her bigotry, to judge by her assiduity
in attending the village church, that factor, at least, thank goodness,
would appear to be static, rather than dynamic."

After another longish interval of brooding, he sauntered down to the
riverside, through his fragrant garden, fragrant and fresh with the
cool odours of the night, and peered into the darkness, towards Castel
Ventirose. Here and there he could discern a gleam of yellow, where
some lighted window was not entirely hidden by the trees. Thousands
and thousands of insects were threading the silence with their shrill
insistent voices. The repeated wail, harsh, prolonged, eerie, of some
strange wild creature, bird or beast, came down from the forest of
the Gnisi. At his feet, on the troubled surface of the Aco, the stars,
reflected and distorted, shone like broken spearheads.

He lighted a cigarette, and stood there till he had consumed it.

"Heigh-ho!" he sighed at last, and turned back towards the villa. And
"Yes," he concluded, "I must certainly keep an eye on our friend Peter
Marchdale."

"But I 'm doubting it's a bit too late--troppo tardo," he said to
Marietta, whom he found bringing hot water to his dressing-room.

"It is not very late," said Marietta. "Only half-past ten."

"She is a woman--therefore to be loved; she is a duchess--therefore to
be lost," he explained, in his native tongue.

"Cosa." questioned Marietta, in hers.

XI

Beatrice and Emilia, strolling together in one of the flowery lanes up
the hillside, between ranks of the omnipresent poplar, and rose-bush
hedges, or crumbling pink-stuccoed walls that dripped with cyclamen and
snapdragon, met old Marietta descending, with a basket on her arm.

Marietta courtesied to the ground.

"How do you do, Marietta?" Beatrice asked.

"I can't complain, thank your Grandeur. I have the lumbago on and off
pretty constantly, and last week I broke a tooth. But I can't complain.
And your Highness?"

Marietta returned, with brisk aplomb.

Beatrice smiled. "Bene, grazie. Your new master--that young Englishman,"
she continued, "I hope you find him kind, and easy to do for?"

"Kind--yes, Excellency. Also easy to do