"Like him?" said Violante slowly, and as if sounding her own mind. "Like him--yes." "Why?" asked Harley, with dry and curt indignation. "His visits seem to please my dear father. Certainly I like him." "Hum. He professes to like you, I suppose?" Violante laughed, unsuspiciously. She had half a mind to reply, "Is that so strange?" But her respect for Harley stopped her. The words would have seemed to her pert. "I am told he is clever," resumed Harley. "O, certainly." "And he is rather handsome. But I like Leonard's face better." "Better--that is not the word. Leonard's face is as that of one who has gazed so often upon heaven; and Mr Leslie's--there is neither sunlight nor starlight reflected there." "My dear Violante!" exclaimed Harley, overjoyed; and he pressed her hand. The blood rushed over the girl's cheek and brow; her hand trembled in his. But Harley's familiar exclamation might have come from a father's lips. At this moment Helen softly approached them, and looking timidly into her guardian's face, said, "Leonard's mother is with him: he asks me to call and see her. May I?" "May you! A pretty notion the Signorina must form of your enslaved state of pupilage, when she hears you ask that question. Of course you may." "Will you take me there?" Harley looked embarrassed. He thought of the widow's agitation at his name; of that desire to shun him, which Leonard had confessed, and of which he thought he divined the cause. And, so divining, he too shrank from such a meeting. "Another time, then," said he, after a pause. Helen looked disappointed, but said no more. Violante was surprised at this ungracious answer. She would have blamed it as unfeeling in another. But all that Harley did was right in her eyes. "Cannot I go with Miss Digby?" said she, "and my mother will go too. We both know Mrs Fairfield. We shall be so pleased to see her again." "So be it," said Harley; "I will wait here with your father till you come back. O, as to my mother, she will excuse the--excuse Madame Riccabocca, and you too. See how charmed she is with _your_ father. I must stay to watch over the conjugal interests of _mine_." But Mrs Riccabocca had too much good old country breeding to leave the Countess; and Harley was forced himself to appeal to Lady Lansmere. When he had explained the case in point, the Countess rose and said-- "But I will call myself, with Miss Digby." "No," said Harley, gravely, but in a whisper. "No--I would rather not. I will explain later." "Then," said the Countess aloud, after a glance of surprise at her son, "I must insist on your performing this visit, my dear madam, and you, Signorina. In truth, I have something to say confidentially to--" "To me," interrupted Riccabocca. "Ah, Madame la Comtesse, you restore me to five-and-twenty. Go, quick--O jealous and injured wife; go, both of you, quick; and you, too, Harley."