‘Ah! I meant not that,’ she said hastily, with a delicate colour flushing her cheeks. He shook his head, and his broad face expanded still more with a grin. ‘I’ve noticed that you usually say what you mean, Neæra; so tell me now plainly to go, nor shall I be offended at your plain speaking.’ ‘If you put that meaning on my words you are wrong, and I ought not to have spoken them. What I thought was, that you might have brought him ill news, or something which weighs on his mind.’ ‘I! why I have not seen or heard from him for fourteen long years! We might as well have been dead all that time. What could I have brought with me to trouble him? Like enough, it is as you say. He’s bothered to have a ne’er‐do‐well about him and his. I’ll try and find out; and, if ’tis so, I’ll march straight away.’ ‘I remember that he was strangely overjoyed to see you,’ replied Neæra, gazing steadily at him. ‘And without doubt he was, for he is too good‐hearted to be sorry to see even a vagabond like myself turn up again. But I will do my best to try and find out the trouble and move it, and, failing that, move myself.’ ‘If you are so determined to find yourself in fault I cannot help it, since you will not believe what I say.’ ‘The best of guests can outstay his welcome; what then must it be with me?’ ‘As you will,’ ejaculated Neæra curtly, and she turned again to the pots on the shelves with great dignity. Cestus grinned and his eyes twinkled. ‘At least you couldn’t deny that if I went to‐day you would feel as if a load was off your shoulders, and you would sit down to your supper with a better appetite.’ ‘You know that is not a fair way of speaking, and I shall not answer,’ she said, turning round with reproof in her eyes. ‘Well! well! I am not so foolish as to expect that I can be like one of yourselves in the house,’ he replied, not caring to push the matter any further. ‘It is your good treatment which has made me selfish. However, I may be able to do you all a good turn some day, and show you that I can remember a kindness.’ ‘There is no need, and you have no right to persist in talking like this; we have given you no cause—our house was never so shamed as to turn a guest from its doors.’ ‘Nay, that I will swear,’ said Cestus humbly; ‘I am a good deal in jest, but my conscience is not altogether easy. The fresh air of this place has pulled me round, and I am as strong as ever. I will go back to Rome like a giant—why should I cumber you any longer? It would be bad manners. Moreover I am city bred, and the peace and quiet of this place, beautiful as it is, begins to make me fret after crowded streets. Such is nature. The roar and bustle of Rome would weary you just as soon, and you would be thankful to return to your fresh air and sleepy town. Would you like to go to Rome, Neæra?’ ‘Ah!’ she said.