She stood and waited, her eyes fixed with unsparing shrewdness on Minna’s face. The latter saw that the interview had to come. The sooner it should be over the better. ‘I’ll come this afternoon. I can manage it,’ she said. ‘Very good. And let the tea-hour extend itself to dinner-time and the evening as well. Now that I have you I may as well get all I can.’ ‘Very well,’ said Minna unenthusiastically. ‘At five o’clock I’ll be with you.’ ‘Bene! Good-morning!’ with a comprehensive and perfectly meaningless bow to Marchmont, and a condescending nod to Fulvia. ‘Allow me,’ exclaimed Marchmont, opening the door. ‘Did you drive? Let me see you to your carriage.’ She made no objection. He went down the stairs with her, and presently returned looking highly satisfied with himself. ‘A thoroughly stylish, well-bred person, Mrs. Charrington,’ he said approvingly, and Minna repressed a shudder. ‘Has she long been a friend of yours, Mrs. Hastings?’ ‘Ever since I first visited Rome--now eight years ago,’ replied Minna dryly. ‘Now, Fulvia mia, I release you. We will put on our bonnets and go home to lunch.’ They did so. Minna did not return to her studio that afternoon, but presented herself at the appointed hour, and rang the bell of Mrs. Charrington’s _piano_. She found her alone. CHAPTER X. After tea had been administered, and sundry indifferent matters discussed, Mrs. Charrington said, with a subtle change in her tone: ‘My dear, I congratulate you on the company in which I found you this morning!’ ‘What was wrong with the company?’ asked Minna calmly, but determined to fight. Mrs. Charrington shrugged her shoulders. ‘The girl is perfectly beautiful!’ she said, almost irrelevantly. ‘I don’t wonder that you like to take her portrait; but what was the other creature doing in your studio?’ ‘Unfortunately “the girl,” as you call her, is engaged to the other creature; and he has claims upon her society.’ ‘She’s Signora Dietrich’s daughter, isn’t she?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And are you still staying at that place?’ ‘I am. It’s too much trouble to move.’ ‘Or, rather, you don’t wish to move. I am astonished at you, I must say. It is so unlike anything you have ever been accustomed to.’ ‘But what do you know about it? When I told you I was there you said you had no idea who they were.’ ‘I had not then. But since then I have found out all that is necessary.’ ‘Very kind of you to take so much trouble. Was it on my account?’ ‘Don’t be huffy. Do you suppose I had anything but kind intentions towards you? Yes, it was on your account. And also because--though I could not remember just at the moment--I had a glimmering idea that I had once heard something about those people. It is such a bore to have a half-caught fact wandering round in your head, and evading you every time you tried to grasp it, so I just made some investigations. La signora is not the most estimable character imaginable, I think?’