'I?' said Nan, sharply. 'What have I to do with it? He can go or stay as he pleases.' 'Besides,' continued Edith, 'in consequence of this _tempo cattivo_----' 'I suppose that means weather that rains cats and dogs,' said Nan, whose anger was of the briefest duration. '----the grand _Serenata_ is put off till to-morrow night. Now he ought to stay and see the illuminations of the boats.' 'The illuminations,' said Nan. 'I should think he had something else to think of.' Nevertheless, when, at dinner, Miss Edith was good enough to put these considerations before Lieutenant King, he seemed very anxious to assent, and he at once called for a time-table; and eventually made out that by taking the night train somewhere or other, he could remain at Bellagio over the next day. And he was rewarded, so far as the weather went. The morning was quite Como-like--fair and blue and calm; the sun shining on the far wooded hills, and on the sparkling little villages at their foot; the green lake still running high, with here and there a white tip breaking; a blaze of sunlight on the gardens below--on the green acacia-branches and the masses of scarlet salvia--and on the white hot terraces where the lizards lay basking. It was a long, idle, delicious day; and somehow he contrived to be near Nan most of the time. He was always anxious to know what she thought about this or about that; he directed her attention to various things; he sometimes talked to her about his ship--and about what sailors thought of when they were far from home and friends. They went out on the lake--these four; the hot sun had stilled the water somewhat; reclining in the cushioned stern of the boat, in the shelter of the awning, they could hear the bells on shore faint and distant. Or they walked in that long allee leading from one end of the gardens--the double line of short chestnuts offering cool and pleasant shadow; the water lapping along the stone parapet beside them; and between each two of the stems a framed picture, as it were, of the lake and the velvet-soft slopes beyond. It was all very pretty, they said. It was a trifle common-place, perhaps; there were a good many hotels and little excursion steamers about; and perhaps here and there a suggestion of the toy-shop. But it was pretty. Indeed, towards sunset, it was very nearly becoming something more. Then the colours in the skies deepened; in the shadows below the villages were lost altogether; and the mountains, growing more and more sombre under the rich gold above began to be almost fine. One half forgot the Cockneyism and familiarity of the place, and for a moment had a glimpse of the true loneliness and solemnity of the hills. As the dusk fell they began to bethink themselves of what was before them. 'It would have been a bad thing for the musicians from La Scala if they had attempted to go out last evening,' Miss Beresford remarked.