they get into, and the time they have getting things straight. They take it for granted that men in good society are gentlemen,--what we mean by gentlemen.” Lydia had been letting her coffee stand, and had scarcely tasted the delicious French bread and the sweet Lombard butter of which her aunt ate so heartily. “Why, child,” said Mrs. Erwin, at last, “where is your appetite? One would think you were the elderly invalid who had been up late. Did you find it too exciting to sit at home _looking_ at a novel? What was it? If it's a new story I should like to see it. But you didn't bring a novel from South Bradfield with you?” “No,” said Lydia, with a husky reluctance. “One of the--passengers gave it to me.” “Had you many passengers? But of course not. That was what made it so delightful when I came over that way. I was newly married then, and with spirits--oh dear me!--for anything. It was one adventure, the whole way; and we got so well acquainted, it was like one family. I suppose your grandfather put you in charge of some family. I know artists sometimes come out that way, and people for their health.” “There was no family on our ship,” said Lydia. “My state-room had been fixed up for the captain's wife--” “Our captain's wife was along, too,” interposed Mrs. Erwin. “She was such a joke with us. She had been out to Venice on a voyage before, and used to be always talking about the Du-_cal_ Palace. And did they really turn out of their state-room for you?” “She was not along,” said Lydia. “Not along?” repeated Mrs. Erwin, feebly. “Who--who were the other passengers?” “There were three gentlemen,” answered Lydia. “Three gentlemen? Three men? Three--And you--and--” Mrs. Erwin fell back upon her pillow, and remained gazing at Lydia, with a sort of remote bewildered pity, as at perdition, not indeed beyond compassion, but far beyond help. Lydia's color had been coming and going, but now it settled to a clear white. Mrs. Erwin commanded herself sufficiently to resume: “And there were--there were--no other ladies?” “No.” “And you were--” “I was the only woman on board,” replied Lydia. She rose abruptly, striking the edge of the table in her movement, and setting its china and silver jarring. “Oh, I know what you mean, aunt Josephine, but two days ago I couldn't have dreamt it! From the time the ship sailed till I reached this wicked place, there wasn't a word said nor a look looked to make me think I wasn't just as right and safe there as if I had been in my own room at home. They were never anything but kind and good to me. They never let me think that they could be my enemies, or that I must suspect them and be on the watch against them. They were Americans! I had to wait for one of your Europeans to teach me that,--for that officer who was here yesterday--” “The cavaliere? Why, where--” “He spoke to me in the cars, when Mr. Erwin was asleep! Had he any right to do so?”