door. The scene, as a matter of fact, was rather comic than tragic, for neither the visitors nor the guardian of the house possessed any language but their own; and Mr and Mrs Mannering had as little understanding of the statement that Mr Waring did not “receive” as Frances had expected. “But he is in--_è in casa_--_è_ IN?” said the worthy Englishman. “Then, my dear, of course it is only a mistake. When he knows who we are--when he has our names----” “_Non riceve oggi_,” said Mariuccia, setting her sturdy breadth in the doorway; “_oggi non riceve il signore_” (The master does not receive to-day). “But he is in?” repeated the bewildered good people. They could have understood “Not at home,” which to Mariuccia would have been simply a lie--with which indeed, had need been, or could it have done the padrone any good, she would have burdened her conscience as lightly as any one. But why, when it was not in the least necessary? Thus they played their little game at cross-purposes, while Frances sat, hot and red with shame, in her corner, sensible to the bottom of her heart of the discourtesy, the unkindness, of turning them from the door. They were her father’s friends; they claimed to have “stuck by him through thick and thin;” they were people who knew about him, and all that he belonged to, and the conditions of his former life; and yet they were turned from his door! She did not venture to go out again for some days, except in the evening, when she knew that all the strangers were at the inevitable _table d’hôte_; and it was with a sigh of relief, yet disappointment, that she heard they had gone away. Yes, at last they did go away, angry, no doubt, thinking her father a churl, and she herself an ignorant rustic, who knew nothing about good manners. Of course this was what they must think. Frances heard those words, “_Non riceve oggi_,” even in her dreams. She saw in imagination the astonished faces of the visitors. “But he will receive us, if you will only take in our names;” and then Mariuccia’s steady voice repeating the well-known phrase. What must they have thought? That it was an insult--that their old friend scorned and defied them. What else could they suppose?