Next morning also he was preoccupied and anxious, insomuch that even Nan noticed it, and good-naturedly hoped he had had no bad news. He started somewhat. 'No, oh no,' he said. 'Only the telegram I got last night makes it necessary for me to start for home to-morrow.' 'Then, at least,' said Nan cheerfully, 'you will see Lake Como before you go.' Her eldest sister smiled in her superior way. 'Nan's head is full of romance,' she said. 'She expects to see the Como of the print-shops: don't you, Nan? Blue water and golden boats, and pink hills, and Claude Melnotte's castle lifting its--whatever was it?--to eternal summer. I am afraid the quotation is not quite correct.' And the truth was that, despite this warning, Nan did seem somewhat disappointed, when, after hours of rattling and splashing along a muddy road, they came upon a stretch of dirty, chalky-green water that in a manner mirrored the gray and barren crags above it. 'That isn't Como!' cried Nan. 'It can't be.' 'Oh, but it is,' Miss Beresford said, laughing. 'At least it's the upper end of it.' But Nan would not believe it; and when at last they reached Colico, and fought their way through the crowd of swarthy good-for-nothings who strove to attach themselves to every scrap of luggage, and when they had got on board the steamer and secured commanding positions on the upper deck, then Nan declared that they were about to see the real Lake of Como. It was observed that the young sailor glanced once or twice rather anxiously at the sky and the seething clouds. Well, they sailed away down through this stretch of pallid green water, that was here and there ruffled with wind, and here and there smooth enough to reflect the silver-gray sky; and they called at successive little villages; and they began to be anxious about a certain banking up of purple clouds in the south-west. They forgot about the eternal summer, and got out their waterproofs. They were glad to find themselves drawing near to Bellagio, and its big hotels, and villas, and terraced gardens. The wind had risen; the driven green water was here and there hissing white; and just as they were landing, a pink flash of lightning darted across that dense wall of purple cloud, and there was a long and reverberating rattle of thunder. 'It seems to me we have just got in in time,' said Frank King in the hall of the hotel. The storm increased in fury. The girls could scarcely dress for dinner through being attracted to the window by the witches' cantrips outside. The thunder blackness in the south-west had deepened; the wind was whirling by great masses of vapour; the water was springing high along the terraces; and the trees in the terraced gardens were blown this way and that, even though their branches were heavy with rain. Then it was that Edith Beresford said-- 'Nan, you ought to persuade Lieutenant King to stay over another day. He hasn't seen Como. This isn't Como.'