They walked slowly back to the spot where they had left their companions. A pair of oxen, with an empty cart, were standing in the road below the tomb, their driver lounging across the rough vehicle--man and beasts motionless as marble. Allegra sat on a hillock opposite, sketching the group. She had bribed the man to draw up for a brief halt while she made her sketch. The massive heads were drooping under the afternoon sun; the tawny and cream-hued coats were stained with dust and purpled with the sweat of patient labour. The creatures looked as gracious and as wise as if they had been gods in disguise. “Now, Allegra,” said her brother, emptying the ashes out of his pipe, “are you ready to go home?” “Yes, I have just jotted down what will serve to remind me of those splendid beasts; but I should like to have them standing there all day, so that I could paint them seriously. They are the finest models I have seen in Rome. Have you two quite finished your secrets and mysteries?” she asked, smiling at Isola, who was looking brighter than usual. “Yes; I have said all I had to say, and have been answered as I wished to be answered. I shall go home very happy.” “That’s a good hearing,” said Disney, as he helped her into the landau. Allegra had talked of wanting to revisit Caracalla’s Baths, a wish of which Isola reminded her as they drove back to the city, along the Appian Way: whereupon Captain Hulbert suggested that he and his sweetheart should stop to explore the ruins, while Disney and Isola went home. Allegra blushed and consented, always a little shy at being alone with her lover, especially since he had pleaded so earnestly for a summer honeymoon. “Mrs. Disney, your right place in Rome would be the Embassy,” murmured Hulbert as he shut the carriage door; “you are a born diplomatist.” “What makes my dearest look so pleased and happy this afternoon?” asked Disney, as he changed to the seat beside his wife. “I am glad because I think Captain Hulbert will persuade Allegra to marry him before we leave Rome. I begged him to hasten their marriage. That was my mystery, Martin. That was what he and I were talking about.” “But why wish to hasten matters, dear? They are very happy as it is--and a year is not a long engagement.” “Too long for me, Martin. I want to see her happy--I want to see them married before----” “Before what, dear love?” he asked tenderly. “Before we leave Rome.” “That would be very short work. We leave in a fortnight. The weather will be growing too hot for you if we linger later.” “Yes, but everything can be settled in less time than that. Ask Father Rodwell. He knows Rome so well that he can help you to arrange all details.” “I thought that every young woman required at least six months for the preparation of her trousseau?”