‘If you mistrust Mr. Brownrigg to such an extent, you had better tell him so yourself--I shall not do it, for I think him most conscientious, and much cleverer than one would expect to find a country practitioner in an out-of-the-way place like this.’ ‘I have told him more than once,’ said Marchmont sulkily. ‘You have? And what does he say to it? I should really like to know.’ ‘Sometimes he laughs. The last time he was quite angry because I said something about you. He said, “Come! none of that,” or something like it. It’s no good. They are either in love with you or afraid of you, all the lot of them. The next time I see a doctor I don’t intend you to come near till I’ve had it all out with him, and got to know his real opinion about me.’ ‘I am sure I shall be very glad to be away,’ replied Fulvia with icy indifference. ‘We have talked long enough about this, too. I didn’t bring Mrs. Hastings to have anything of this kind inflicted upon her. Do you know what we were talking about at dinner?’ ‘No--and don’t want to.’ ‘Very well; we’ll say good-evening, then. It is too great a penance for my visitor.--Come!’ She looked at Minna, and rose. Minna followed her example. ‘Don’t go, Fulvia!’ cried her husband in a thin, piercing voice, which had a sound in it of fretful tears. ‘Can’t you understand what a man feels like, mewed up here all day, and not able to do anything that anyone else can?’ ‘Oh, it must be very unpleasant, I am sure,’ she replied with perfect tranquillity. ‘But that is no reason why other people should be made uncomfortable by your discomfort.--Come!’ She again turned to Minna, with a smile. ‘You will come back again?’ he cried in a persistent, shrill voice. ‘Oh, of course I shall come as usual,’ she replied. Minna shook hands with the poor little suspicious, fretful mummy of a creature, disliking him a degree less than she had ever done before. He was being punished so obviously and so severely. They left the room, and went back towards the drawing-room. ‘A man!’ ejaculated Fulvia, half to herself, as she paused for a moment, and then gave a kind of laugh. ‘A man--già!’ Minna made no remark beyond one to the effect that he really seemed very ill. ‘Oh yes, he is very ill,’ replied Fulvia, shrugging her shoulders. They found Hans and Mr. Hamilton in the drawing-room waiting for them. They sat down in a group near one of the windows, and left the rest of the great cold-looking room to itself. The light grew dimmer and dimmer. A servant came with a lamp. Fulvia bade him place it on a table in the corner, and not to bring any more lights. It made a radiant soft yellow glow in the background, with its gold-silk shade. They talked in low voices about Italy, even about Rome. Hans’ eye roved round the walls as if in search of something. ‘What are you looking for, as if you missed something?’ Fulvia asked him.