“Arthur, we are going to dine early,” said the voice of Alice just behind them; “the doctor said you were to dine early. Come and rest a little before dinner. I met some people just now who were talking of Mr. Campbell. They were wondering where he lived, and saying they had seen him somewhere. I told them you were with us,” the girl went on, with the air of a woman who might be Colin’s mother. “Will you please come home in case they should call?” This unexpected intimation ended the ramble and the talk, which was of a kind rather different from the tourist talk which Colin had shortly to experience from the lips of his visitors, who were people who had seen him at Wodensbourne, and had been commissioned by the Franklands to look for him, and report upon his condition. Little Alice received the ample English visitors still with the air of being Colin’s mother, or mature protecting female friend, and talked to the young lady daughter, who was about half as old again as herself, with an indulgent elderly kindness which was beautiful to behold. There were a mother, father, daughter, and two sons, moving about in a compact body, all of whom were exceedingly curious about the quaint little brotherhood which, with Alice for its protecting angel, had taken possession of the upper floor of the Palazzo Savvielli. They were full of a flutter of talk about the places they had visited, and of questions as to whether their new acquaintances had been here or there. “I promised Matty to write, and I shall be sure to tell her I have seen you, and all about it,” the young lady said, playfully, not without a glance at Alice. Was it possible that this remark brought a little colour to Alice’s cheek, or was it a mere reflection from his own thoughts, throwing a momentary gleam across her unimpassioned face? Anyhow, it occurred to Colin that the little abstract Alice looked more like an ordinary girl of her years for the five minutes after the tourist party, leaving a wonderful silence and sense of relief behind them, had disappeared down the chilly stone stairs. CHAPTER XXXI.