For a little space he smoked in silence; then all at once he said, as if it were an echo of some thought he had been revolving in his mind: “What a pity, what an enormous pity it is, that your child did not live till now!” A sudden spasm, gone almost as soon as it had come, contracted the muscles of Vanna’s face; her teeth bit hard into her underlip; but never a word answered she. “Come,” said the Captain a few minutes later; “put on your things and let us go for a stroll in the Park. It’s a lovely afternoon, and there will be no end of swells in the Row.” Nothing loth was Giovanna to comply. As yet she had seen hardly anything of London, and what she had seen had not impressed her over favourably. It had been one of the dreams of her life to see Hyde Park in the height of the season, and now her dream was about to be fulfilled. In ten minutes she was ready to set out. The Captain chartered a hansom—it was the first time his niece had been in one—telling the driver to take his time and go by way of Regent Street and Piccadilly. Here at length was London as Vanna had imagined it to be. As the Captain had prophesied, the Row was crowded. They strolled about for a while in the warm sunshine, and then found a couple of chairs whence they could take in the varied features of the passing show at their leisure. A proud man was Captain Verinder that day. In all that gay and fashionable throng there were not, in his opinion, more than three or four women who in point of looks were fit to be matched with the one by his side—that is to say (to compare one thing with another), if a rose may be considered to be in the perfection of its beauty when it is fully blown, and not when it is merely a blushing bud of undeveloped possibilities. Although nearing her fortieth birthday, Giovanna—unlike the majority of her countrywomen, who age early—was remarkably young-looking for her years. But then she was English on her mother’s side, and that may have had something to do with the matter. She was wearing a charming half-mourning costume, with bonnet to match, which she had bought since her arrival in London. Many were the glances of admiration of which she was the recipient, many the heads that were turned for a second look at her tall figure, so stately and yet so graceful, with her pale classic features, clear-cut as some antique gem, as she threaded her way through the crowd with the proud composed air of one “to the manner born.” Well might Captain Verinder feel proud of his charge.