Luigi smilingly hastened to repair his oversight. He was quick-witted enough in some things. “A favourite, evidently,” he said to himself with an almost imperceptible shrug. “I suppose it will be to my interest to keep in with this fellow for the present, but when it comes to my turn he shall very soon be presented with the order of his going.” It seemed to Lisle that the best thing he could do would be to draw young Clare into talk over luncheon and leave Sir Gilbert and Mrs. Clare to get on together as best they could. Luigi responded readily enough to Everard’s advances, all he asked just then being to be left alone by his “grandfather,” whom he still regarded with secret fear and trembling, the enormity of the fraud of which he had been guilty impressing itself far more unpleasantly on his consciousness when in the presence of the baronet than at any other time. Both the young men were careful to confine their talk to the merest generalities. Both of them were on their guard, neither of them could tell yet what his future relations towards the other might develop into. As for the baronet, he proceeded to mount one of his antiquarian hobbies (it may have been of set purpose, and in order to save both Giovanna and himself the awkwardness of having to make talk about nothing in particular) and ambled on, apparently to the content of both himself and his listener. Nothing more was required of Mrs. Clare than to look interested and to interject an occasional “Yes,” or “No,” or “Indeed,” at the proper moment, all of which she did to perfection, although three-fourths of Sir Gilbert’s monologue was clearly beyond her comprehension. When luncheon was over, the baronet, turning to Everard, said: “Mr. Lisle, I want you to be good enough to conduct Mrs. Clare and my grandson over the house and grounds, and to show them everything worth seeing. Mrs. Burton will place herself at your disposal as far as the house is concerned, and you can impound Shotover to show you over the gardens, and so forth. For myself, I am sorry that the infirmities of age should have so far prevailed over me as to preclude me from undertaking a task which otherwise would have been one of unmixed pleasure. You will find me in the library when you have finished your peregrination: but there is no need whatever for you to hurry yourselves.” CHAPTER XX. SIR GILBERT’S DECISION