‘It isn’t that one, of course. It has nothing to do with the old Bocca della Verità; but in some respects we who live there consider it rather a good name for it. Really and truly,’ he added earnestly, ‘it’s odd in many ways, undoubtedly. It is fundamentally Italian, but there’s nothing really wrong there, according to Italian notions--and you and I take the Romans as they are, I believe, and not as what English philistinism says everyone all over the world ought to be. And sometimes it is awfully amusing. Do come and try. If you didn’t like it you could go to a hotel the very next day, and I would take all the bother of it upon myself.’ She looked seriously reflective. ‘Of course I can’t possibly say anything till I have seen it for myself. But I will see it--yes, I will look at it.’ ‘All right. Suppose you were to come and have lunch there to-day. That would give you some idea of it.’ ‘With you, eh? Well, it might be a good plan. What time?’ ‘In half an hour. It is close at hand. I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll run round now, and tell Giuseppe, and then come back here for you.’ ‘Who is Giuseppe?’ she asked, as he made for the door. He looked back at her, half laughing. ‘Giuseppe is--Giuseppe--well, I suppose one might call Giuseppe the manager,’ he replied, and was gone. Minna put on her things during his absence, and was ready, when he returned, to accompany him. ‘I saw Giuseppe, and told him that a friend of mine was coming to lunch, who would afterwards wish to see their best rooms. He said, “Bene, bene! but don’t go to suppose that any rattle-pated student friend of yours is going to be put up in the best rooms of Casa Dietrich!” I did not explain. You will be explanation enough, as soon as he sees you.’ ‘I really think you are a very reckless young man,’ said Minna, as she followed him out of the room and down the stairs. CHAPTER II.