"Oh, there are the Inglehart boys!" cried the girl, with a flash of excitement. There was a sensation of interest and friendliness in the company as these young fellows, after their moment of social intimidation, began to gather round the pictures, and to fling their praise and blame about, and talk the delightful shop of the studio. The sight of their fresh young faces, the sound of their voices, struck a pang of regret that was almost envy to Colville's heart. Imogene followed them with eager eyes. "Oh," she sighed, "shouldn't you like to be an artist?" "I should, very much." "Oh, I beg your pardon; I forgot. I knew you were an architect." "I should say I used to be, if you hadn't objected to my perfects and preterits." What came next seemed almost an accident. "I didn't suppose you cared for my objections, so long as I amused you." She suddenly glanced at him, as if terrified at her own words. "Have you been trying to amuse me?" he asked. "Oh no. I thought----" "Oh, then," said Colville sharply, "you meant that I was amusing myself with you?" She glanced at him in terror of his divination, but could not protest. "Has any one told you that?" he pursued, with sudden angry suspicion. "No, _no_ one," began Imogene. She glanced about her, frightened. They stood quite alone where they were; the people had mostly wandered off into the other rooms. "Oh, don't--I didn't mean--I didn't intend to say anything----" "But you have said something--something that surprises me from _you_, and hurts me. I wish to know whether you say it from yourself." "I don't know--yes. That is, not----Oh, I wish Mrs. Fleming----" She looked as if another word of pursuit would put it beyond her power to control herself. "Let me take you to Mrs. Fleming," said Colville, with freezing _hauteur_; and led the way where the top of Mrs. Fleming's bonnet still showed itself. He took leave at once, and hastily parting with his host, found himself in the street, whirled in many emotions. The girl had not said that from herself, but it was from some woman; he knew that by the directness of the phrase and its excess, for he had noticed that women who liked to beat about the bush in small matters have a prodigious straightforwardness in more vital affairs, and will even call grey black in order clearly to establish the presence of the black in that colour. He could hardly keep himself from going to Palazzo Pinti.