Untenanted and neglected as it was, there was yet about it that glorious luxuriance of vegetation, that rare growth of vines and olive and oleander and cactus which seems to more than compensate all the care and supervision of men. The overloaded orange-trees dipped their weary branches in the lake, where the golden balls rose and fell as the water surged about them. The tangled vines sprawled over the ground, staining the deep grass with their purple blood. Olive berries lay deep around, and a thousand perfumes loaded the air as the faint breeze stirred it. “Let me show you a true Italian villa,” said the Viscount, as the boat glided up to the steps cut in the marble rock. “I once passed a few weeks here; a caprice seized me to know what kind of life it would be to loiter amidst olive groves, and have no other company than the cicala and the green lizard.” “Faith, my Lord,” said O'Reilly, “if you could live upon figs and lemons, you 'd have nothing to complain of; but I 'm thinking you found it lonely.” “I scarcely remember, but my impression is, I liked it,” said he, with a slight hesitation. “I used to lie under the great cedar yonder, and read Petrarch.” “Capital fun--excellent--live here for two hundred a year, or even less--plenty of fish in the lake--keep the servants on watermelons,” said Twining, slapping his legs, as he made this domestic calculation to himself. “With people one liked about one,” said Miss O'Reilly, “I don't see why this should n't be a delicious spot.” “There's not a hundred yards of background. You could n't give a horse walking exercise here if your life was on it,” said Spicer, contemptuously. “Splendid grapes, wonderful oranges, finest melons I ever saw,--all going to waste too,” said Twining, laughing, as if such utter neglect was a very droll thing. “Get this place a bargain,--might have it for a mere nothing.” “So you might, O'Reilly,” said the Viscount; “it is one of those deserted spots that are picked up for a tenth of their value; buy it, fit it up handsomely, and we'll come and spend the autumn with you,--won't we, Twining?” “Upon my life we will, I 'll swear it; be here 1st September to the day, and stay till--as long as you please. Great fun!” “Delicious spot to come and repose in from the cares and worries of life,” said Lord Lackington, as he stretched upon a bench and began peeling an orange. “I 'd get the blue devils in a week; I 'd be found hanging some fine morning--” “For shame, papa,” broke in Molly. “My Lord says he 'd come on a visit to us, and you know we 'd only be here in the autumn.” “Just so--come here for the wine season--get in your olives and look after your oil--great fun,” chimed in Twining, merrily.