“Don't you think, mamma,” said the girl, with an easy smile, “that, considering how recently we have known this gentleman, we have been sufficiently explicit and candid before him, and that any pretence of emotion in his presence would be most unbecoming? He will, I am sure, forgive us the omission. Won't you, sir?” Stocmar smiled and bowed, and blushed and looked miserable. “_You_ have been very candid, at all events, Clara,” said Mrs. Morris; “and Mr. Stocmar--or I mistake him much--must have acquired a considerable insight into the nature of his charge. Sir William expects to see you at dinner to-day, Clara,” added she, in an easier tone. “He hopes to be well enough to come to table; and as it will be your last evening here--” “So it will,” said the girl, quickly; “and I must fetch down Beethoven with me, and play his favorites for him once more.” Mrs. Morris raised her eyebrows with an expressive look at Stocmar, and led him from the room. Scarcely had the door closed, when the girl threw herself, half kneeling, on the sofa, and sobbed as if her very heart was breaking. CHAPTER XXXVIII. VERY OUTSPOKEN ON THE WORLD AT LARGE And there came a next morning to all this. Oh, these same next mornings of life!--strange leaves in that book of our daily existence, now dark and black-lettered, now bright in all the glories of golden tracery! For so is it, each day is a fresh page to be written “with chalk or charcoal,” as it may be. Two travelling-carriages took their way from Florence on that morning,-- one for Bologna, with Mr. Stocmar and Clara; the other for Rome, with the Heathcotes, Captain Holmes having his place in the rumble. Old soldier that he was, he liked the open-air seat, where he could smoke his cigar and see the country. Of all those who journeyed in either, none could vie with him in the air of easy enjoyment that he wore; and even the smart Swiss maid at his side, though she might have preferred a younger companion, was fain to own, in her own peculiar English, that he was full of little bounties (bontés) in her regard. And when they halted to bait, he was so amiable and full of attentions to every one, exerting the very smallest vocabulary to provide all that was needed; never abashed by failure or provoked by ridicule; always good-tempered, always gay. It was better than colchicum to Sir William to see the little fat man washing the salad himself at the fountain, surrounded by all the laughing damsels of the hostel, who jeered him on every stage of his performance; and even May, whose eyes were red with crying after Clara, had to laugh at the disasters of his cookery and the blunders of his Italian. And then he gossiped about with landlords and postboys, till he knew of every one who had come or was coming; what carriages, full of Russian Princes, could not get forward for want of horses, and what vetturinos, full of English, had been robbed of everything. He had the