The door was opened to us too alertly to be done by anybody but Domenico; and it was Domenico accordingly, in his vast expanse of shirt sleeves. It was quite a comfort to see his beaming, unconscious face. “The time is fine,” said Domenico; “it pleases to the signora to make promenade? Ah, bravo! the piccolo signore grow like tree.” This was in reference to baby, who crowed at him and held out his arms, and whom Domenico freely called piccolo and piccolino, at first somewhat to my indignation; but I confess the good fellow’s voice and looks, and the way baby stretched out to him, out of poor Lizzie’s tired arms, was quite consolatory and refreshing to me. It is easy to get a feeling of home to a place, surely. It was only lodgings, and Domenico was a foreigner, and I had not the ghost of an early association with the little insignificant house; but I cannot tell you what a sense of ease and protection came upon me the very moment I was within the door. Upstairs on the table lay a letter. We got so few letters that I was surprised, and took it up immediately, and with still greater surprise found it to be from Sara Cresswell, lamenting over not having found me, wondering where I could have gone, and concluding with a solemn invitation to dinner in her father’s name. “Papa is so anxious to see Mr. Langham and you,” wrote Sara, “and to talk over things. I have been obliged to obey him for once, and not to go or write out to dear godmamma till he has seen you. If you don’t come he will be so dreadfully disappointed; indeed, I am quite sure if you don’t come _he will go to see you_. I can’t suppose you will be able to resist such a threat as that. Send me a word, please, directly. I shall be quite wretched till I know.” This revived all my excitement, as may be supposed; there _must_ be something in it after all, and surely, instead of Harry going to his office to seek him, it would be much better to meet at his house, and with an evening’s leisure too; for Sara had taken care to add that nobody else was to be there. The earnestness of this invitation seemed so entirely contradictory to all that I had heard to-day, that the wildest vague suspicions of mystery began to break upon my mind. To be sure, bakers and butlers were not likely to be in the secret. Mr. Cresswell knew all about it; and here was he seeking us entirely of his own accord! Once more all my dazzled ambitious dreams came back again; I forgot my failure and sense of treachery--I was no traitor--it was only my rights that I had been thinking of; and they were not pathetic possible victims, but triumphant usurpers, who now had possession of the Park. CHAPTER XII.