“Who could have thought of seeing you here?” she said, as the rector came up to her with that expressive grasp of the hand which was one of his special gifts, and which everybody remarked as the very embodiment of cordiality and friendliness, a sort of modest embrace. He was not glad to see her particularly, nor she to see him; but if they had flown into each other’s arms it could scarcely have been a warmer greeting than that silent clasping of hands, without even a “How d’ye do?” to impair its eloquence. “Wonderful, isn’t it?” he said; “but the truth is, dear Bill was not at all well. I can’t tell what is the matter with him. But not well at all--quite out of work and out of heart----” “Chest?” said Mrs. Norton, solemnly. “No, I don’t think so. Nothing organic they tell me. Only want of tone, want of energy. As Easter was over so early this year, and nothing particular going on, I thought I might as well carry out an old intention and come to Italy----” “This is entirely a chest place,” said Mrs. Norton, still very serious. “I don’t think it is supposed very good for other complaints.” “Ah, I don’t think it will do dear Bill any harm,” said the rector. “I could quite suppose I was in my own parish, looking round. Miss Trelawny is blooming as usual.” “Blooming is not the word I would apply to Diana, Mr. Snodgrass; but she is very well.” “Ah, you were always rather a purist about language. Well, then, you must allow that your niece is blooming. I never saw Miss Sophy look so well.” “My niece has been very much appreciated here,” said Mrs. Norton. “She has found herself among people who understand her, and that is always an addition to one’s happiness.” “Surely,” said the rector, to whom the idea of Sophy as a person not understood by her surroundings was novel. He objected to Sophy and her aunt as “parasites,” just as Sophy and her aunt objected to himself and his dear “Bill” as annoyances to Diana. “It is too bad,” Mrs. Norton cried, hurrying across to Mrs. Hunstanton after this little encounter. “Diana hates these men--and she cannot get rid of them wherever she goes.” “Diana is a great deal too kind to everybody,” said Mrs. Hunstanton. “She has a way of concealing when she is bored which I call downright hypocrisy--but I don’t see why she should hate them in particular, poor men!”