in whispers, as if they were ashamed of it, but in their ordinary tones, all being natural, both the popular worship and its object. The curate when he became aware of this grew red, and clenched his fist, with an English impulse “to knock down the fellow;” but Pandolfini, who knew better what it meant, followed her steps at a distance with glowing eyes, and was proud and happy in the universal homage. He quoted lines out of the “Vita Nuova” to his stupid faithful companion. Not always to his listener’s edification. “How do you suppose I can understand that stuff?” growled the Rev. William through the beard he was growing, and the Italian ceased to throw about such pearls. But it may be imagined what a thunderbolt fell into this peaceful little society when there began to be consultations among the leaders of the party about going away. “Our time will soon be up, you know,” Mr. Hunstanton said one evening, rubbing his hands; “May is a very nice month to get home in. A week or two in Switzerland; perhaps a week or two in London, if my wife has good accounts of the children. That’s what I like. After May it’s sultry here and uncomfortable, eh, Pandolfini? Off in November, home in May, that’s my rule--and if you like to take it old style, you know, as they do in Russia, so much the better. That’s my regular rule.” “W--what?” said Mrs. Norton, who sometimes tried to persuade herself that she was rather deaf, and would not hear anything that was unpleasant; but she had scarcely self-possession for this little trick, being too much aghast at the idea thus presented to her mind, which it seemed incredible they should all have ignored till now. Then there was a pause of universal dismay, for they had all enjoyed themselves very much, and disliked the idea of breaking up. Mrs. Hunstanton alone went on working placidly, and the murmur of Reginald’s voice, who was playing patience at a table, and whispering the value of the cards to himself, became suddenly audible. The impatience of the whole company with Reginald cannot be described. “My dear boy,” said the rector sharply (in a tone which meant You odious idiot!), “couldn’t you just count as well if you did it to yourself?” “What has the boy done?” said Mr. Hunstanton with surprise. “Yes; we must bolt. I don’t know how that may affect your plans, Diana.” “I have no plans,” she said. “I came here by the light of nature, because you were all here----” “And you will come away in the same manner,” said Mr. Hunstanton briskly. Sophy turned round and transfixed him with her eyes, or would have done so had his middle-aged composure been penetrable, or had he seen her, which had something also to do with it. But he did not see her, and, good man, was perfectly easy in his mind.