And it was true that Mr. Luigi had disappeared again; he was only to be three days gone, Domenico assured us, holding up three of his fingers. “Tree sola, tree only,” repeated the fat fellow once more, blocking up the passage as of old; and once more, with that inimitable wheel and elastic step of his, opening the door before any one could approach it. I could not help wondering to myself whether the Italian gentleman was likely to leave Chester before we did; certainly the loss of Domenico would make quite a difference in the house. I had not thought quite so much as I might have been supposed to have done about this Italian gentleman. He too had recognised the name of Sarah Mortimer as having some influence on his fate. He had left early next morning, as if acting upon the knowledge he had gained, whatever that might be. It was very strange; afterwards, of course, I came to lay everything together, and wonder at myself that I had not seen how things were tending. But at the moment I was full of my own thoughts; they seemed so very much more important to me just then than anything else. I dismissed Mr. Luigi with just half a thought of surprise and curiosity; I dare say Sara Cresswell had thought more of him. And Sara had not come to me through all that long intervening day. Could she have gone to the Park to tell the news? would they acknowledge or pretend to disown us? That was a question far more interesting to me than all the Italians in the world. The private object of my expedition, however, was one I was truly ashamed to mention to anybody; but, for all that, it had taken a great hold upon myself. I have said I had been reading novels; and the very last one we had from the library was “Ten Thousand a Year.” It struck upon my mind even at the very moment when poor Mr. Ward had told me first. Those dear, good, delightful, fine, superfine Aubreys! to think of all their sufferings, the poor dear superlative people--how dreadfully they felt it to have only a _maid_ waiting at table! Oh me! and only to think that here might we ourselves be bringing about such another calamity! Of course you may think it was very fantastical. I do confess that the dreadful downfall of having only a _maid_ to wait, seemed to me, at first sight, the most _fine_ distress I had ever heard of; but it took a hold upon my mind all the same; I could not help imagining to myself the other side of the picture. It was very pleasant to think of falling heirs to a great estate, and being lifted in a moment from poverty into great wealth; but who were those two pathetic figures turning away from the closed door of the house which had been their home so long, mournfully settling down in their new straitened quarters, breaking up all the habits of their lives, missing somehow in an unspoken way, that it would be ludicrous to express in words, but was far from ludicrous to feel, all the grander circumstances of their life? Ah! that was quite a different question.