"From Roccadoro a charming excursion may be made, up the beautiful Val Rampio, to the mediæval village of Sant' Alessina (7 miles), with its magnificent castle, in fine grounds, formerly a seat of the Sforzas, now belonging to the Prince of Zelt-Neuminster, and containing the celebrated Zelt-Neuminster collection of paintings. Incorporated in the castle buildings, a noticeable peculiarity, are the parish church and presbytery. Accessible daily, except Monday, from 10 to 4; attendant 1 fr." So then! To-day was Wednesday, the hour between two and three. So--! Her amour-propre triumphed, but I fancy her vexation mounted.... IV "I beg your pardon. It's disgraceful you should have been made to wait. The porter is an idiot. You wish, of course, to see the house--?" The English words, on a key of spontaneous apology, with a very zealous inflection of concern--yet, at the same time, with a kind of entirely respectful and amiable abruptness, as of one hailing a familiar friend,--were pronounced in a breath by a brisk, cheerful, unmistakably English voice. Lady Blanchemain, whose attention had still been on the incriminated page, looked quickly up, and (English voice and spontaneous apology notwithstanding) I won't vouch that the answer at the tip of her impulsive tongue mightn't have proved a hasty one--but the speaker's appearance gave her pause: the appearance of the tall, smiling, unmistakably English young man, by whom Shoulder-knots had returned accompanied, and who now, having pushed the grille ajar and issued forth, stood, placing himself with a tentative obeisance at her service, beside the carriage: he was so clearly, first of all--what, if it hadn't been for her preoccupation, his voice, tone, accent would have warned her to expect--so visibly a gentleman; and then, with the even pink of his complexion, his yellowish hair and beard, his alert, friendly, very blue blue eyes--with his very blue blue flannels too, and his brick-red knitted tie--he was so vivid and so unusual. His appearance gave her a pause; and in the result she in her turn almost apologized. "This wretched book," she explained, pathetically bringing forward her _pièce justificative_, "said that it was open to the public." The vivid young man hastened to put her in the right. "It is--it _is_," he eagerly affirmed. "Only," he added, with a vaguely rueful modulation, and always with that amiable abruptness, as a man very much at his ease, while his blue eyes whimsically brightened, "only the blessed public never comes--we're so off the beaten path. And I suppose one mustn't expect a Scioccone"--his voice swelled on the word, and he cast sidelong a scathing glance at his summoner--"to cope with unprecedented situations. Will you allow me to help you out?"