"You are not Italian," she said still vehemently, but in English so pure as to excite the young man's wonder more keenly, "and perhaps you did not know about it; but your dog should not come in and kill our turkeys. See, it is quite dead," she added, holding it out; "and they were such dear little things, my sister and I had just brought them in a basket from the _podere_ to show my mother." "I am very sorry, very sorry indeed," said Ibbetson with great earnestness, "and very much ashamed that I did not keep a better look out." "If you were only passing by in the road, of course you could not help it," said the girl, looking at him gravely; "but perhaps you will try to prevent his doing it again. I should be very much obliged if you would, for I cannot bear to see things hurt." "I will certainly flog him." There was a pause, and she took another survey, but this time it was of Cartouche, whom his master was holding. "He does not seem a very fierce dog?" she said inquiringly. "Quite the reverse," said Ibbetson smiling. "He is little more than a puppy, and this mischief is only play, but still it is necessary he should be taught what he is not to do." Jack was looking very determined; Cartouche had the air of a victim. The girl glanced at the turkey which she still held, and again at the dog. "Perhaps," she said slowly, as if rather ashamed of herself, "you will not beat him? The turkey is dead, and I think he understands he is not to do it again. Indeed, Antonio shall carry the rest back to the farm. You will not beat him?" "You have a right to say what shall be done." "Then I say that," she said, brightening and clapping her hands. "Here is my sister, I must tell her about it." She ran to meet a younger girl who came down the steps of a terrace. Ibbetson stood where she had left him, feeling a little awkward, it must be confessed, and not knowing whether he was to go or stay, or into what strange place he had fallen. Were these people English or Italian? The girl's type of beauty was Italian, but the English she spoke bore no trace of being acquired. The villa was square, large, and apparently out of repair; there was a tower which looked older than the rest of the building, and a handsome high-arched entrance. Plants were arranged in pyramids round vases or statues; there were lemon trees in great tubs, tiny oranges hanging between the leaves, tube roses scenting the air, glossy acanthuses. In the centre of the broad space in front of the house, where Jack was standing, was a pond with a fountain in its midst, which you might reach from the villa through a covered way matted over with banksia roses, and having seats at intervals under the cool shade. He had just time to notice all this when the two girls turned and joined him. "This is my sister," said his first acquaintance with a pretty little gesture of introduction, "but we do not know your name, or anything about you, except that you are English."