'Ah! Liberty!' said Manisty--'Liberty!' He lifted his shoulders contemptuously. Then backing to the wall, he made room for her to pass. The girl felt almost as though she had been struck. She moved hurriedly, appealingly towards Miss Manisty, who took her arm kindly as they left the room. 'Don't let my nephew frighten you, my dear'--she said--'He never thinks like anybody else.' 'I read so much at Florence--and on the journey'--said Lucy, while her hand trembled in Miss Manisty's--'Mrs. Browning--Mazzini--many things. I could not put that time out of my head!' CHAPTER II On the way back to the salon the ladies passed once more through the large book-room or library which lay between it and the dining-room. Lucy Foster looked round it, a little piteously, as though she were seeking for something to undo the impression--the disappointment--she had just received. 'Oh! my dear, you never saw such a place as it was when we arrived in March'--said Miss Manisty. 'It was the billiard-room--a ridiculous table--and ridiculous balls--and a tiled floor without a scrap of carpet--and the _cold_! In the whole apartment there were just two bedrooms with fireplaces. Eleanor went to bed in one; I went to bed in the other. No carpets--no stoves--no proper beds even. Edward of course said it was all charming, and the climate balmy. Ah, well!--now we are really quite comfortable--except in that odious dining-room, which Edward will have left in its sins.' Miss Manisty surveyed her work with a mild satisfaction. The table indeed had been carried away. The floor was covered with soft carpets. The rough uneven walls painted everywhere with the interlaced M's of the Malestrini were almost hidden by well-filled bookcases; and, in addition, a profusion of new books, mostly French and Italian, was heaped on all the tables. On the mantelpiece a large recent photograph stood propped against a marble head. It represented a soldier in a striking dress; and Lucy stopped to look at it. 'One of the Swiss Guards--at the Vatican'--said Mrs. Burgoyne kindly. 'You know the famous uniform--it was designed by Michael Angelo.' 'No--I didn't know'--said the girl, flushing again.--'And this head?' 'Ah, that is a treasure! Mr. Manisty bought it a few months ago from a Roman noble who has come to grief. He sold this and a few bits of furniture first of all. Then he tried to sell his pictures. But the Government came down upon him--you know your pictures are not your own in Italy. So the poor man must keep his pictures and go bankrupt. But isn't she beautiful? She is far finer than most of the things in the Vatican--real primitive Greek--not a copy. Do you know'--Mrs. Burgoyne stepped back, looked first at the bust, then at Miss Poster--'do you know you are really very like her--curiously like her!' 'Oh!'--cried Miss Foster in confusion--'I wish--'