“We settled in a place called Barrytown in one of the Eastern States, where John (I always called my husband John, Sir Gilbert) thought he saw an opening for the profitable investment of his capital. But he had had no training, and in all business relations was little better than a child compared with the shrewd Yankees in whose midst he had chosen to locate himself. The result was what might have been expected. Instead of making money, at the end of two years he found himself about four thousand pounds poorer than when he had started in business.” “That was burning his fingers with a vengeance,” interpolated the Captain, who had so far maintained a diplomatic silence. Sir Gilbert glared at him for an instant and then turned his shoulder a couple of inches more towards him. “Proceed, madam, pray proceed,” he said blandly to Giovanna. “By that time our child was born and my health had given way. The doctors told John that the climate of the Eastern States was too inclement for me, and that if I stayed there another winter he would risk losing me. Thereupon he decided to break up our home and go further inland in search at once of a climate that would be likely to agree with me, and of an opening for what was left of his capital which promised better results than his first venture had brought him. Meanwhile I was to go back to Italy, of course taking my child with me, and strive to recruit my health in my native air. As soon as he found himself prospering and had settled where our new home was to be, he would send for me, or fetch me to join him. Well, sir, we parted, my husband seeing me on board ship at New York, little thinking that we should never see each other again. Two letters from him reached me after my arrival at home, in the second of which he told me that he was going to penetrate still further west, or south, I forget which. After that came a silence which has remained unbroken till the present day.” As Giovanna ended, her head sank forward a little and, as if involuntarily, the fingers of her right hand sought and pressed the golden hoop which still graced the third finger of her left hand. The Captain had been on thorns for the last few minutes for fear lest she should trip, or contradict herself over some point of the narrative which he had so carefully elaborated for her. Now he began to breathe more freely. They were by no means out of the wood yet, but everything had gone so smoothly up till now that it was surely not unreasonable to hope their good fortune would attend them to the end. “And you never made any effort to trace your husband?” said Sir Gilbert after a pause.