Oliver Trent had been too much enraged by Ibbetson's monopolisation of Bice to be as prudent as was his wont; indeed, he began to feel as if he had been over cautious already, and that it would have been wiser to have checked matters more decidedly. She avoided him, but he was determined to give his warning, and when Jack went to seek Phillis he caught at the opportunity to say-- "New friends for old--is that your last motto, Bice?" "What do you mean?" she said, faltering. "I mean that I could envy you your powers of forgetfulness if I did not unfortunately happen to be one of the sufferers. Clive and I--have we really altogether dropped out of your mind?" "You take care to prevent such a possibility, even for a moment," she said angrily. "Oh, I will not offend you again, if that is your feeling. I will leave Florence to-morrow morning, and nothing shall remind you of my existence. As for Clive, I am afraid I cannot make so large a promise." She was so changed and shaken, that for the first time in her life he frightened her. She felt as if she were powerless in a strong grasp. Where could she turn? "Why do you say this to me, Oliver?" she said slowly. "What have I done? I have not forgotten your goodness about Clive, or--what you said. Why should I? There is no one else to whom I can turn. But you--you should not oblige me to speak of it here, with all these people as our guests." She said the words very softly and gently, but she did not look at him as she spoke. "When will you speak, then?" he said moodily. "To-night?" "Not to-night, not to-night, please! To-morrow." "I am tired of to-morrows. Why should it always be to-morrow? No. This evening in the garden." She did not contradict him any further. After all, it was hardly worth while. Ibbetson could not get any more conversation with Bice on their way back to the villa, for Oliver quietly baffled his attempts, and Miss Preston was pouring out to every one her own views as to possible improvements in the vintage--the grapes should be trained differently, there should be a revolving wheel in the tubs, someone should read to the _contadine_. "Still I own to one improvement, for I am pleased to have had ocular demonstration that the barbarous fashion of treading out the grapes is no longer in practice. It gives one a certain hope." "But that is another stage," exclaimed Kitty innocently; "don't you know? They put the grapes into huge shallow tubs and jump on them till the juice is extracted. All the boys and girls help. After our share has been weighed in the cellar we shall make it at home."