Here Harry’s voice sounded from below, calling me, and I left Lizzie somewhat amused by her cautious and prudent answer, and not a little curious to see that the Italian was interested about the old lady as well as she about him. I found Harry quite full of the same story. Mr. Luigi had questioned him with great caution about Miss Mortimer, and of course had heard the entire story from Harry of our relationship, and how we found each other out. He had received it very quietly, without expressing any feeling at all, and had asked some very close questions about her and about the Park, and her other sister. Harry could not make him out. Of course neither of us knew the other sister. Evidently it was a mysterious business somehow. But as we knew nothing whatever about it, we soon came to an end of our speculations. The morning, perhaps, as Aunt Milly thought, would clear it all up. CHAPTER II. The morning came, and a very lovely morning it was, as bright and almost as warm as summer, one of those glimpses of real spring which come to us only by days at a time. Aunt Milly came almost before we had finished breakfast. I dare say she is accustomed to early hours; but it was evidently strong anxiety and excitement that had brought her out so soon to-day. I had told Lizzie she was coming, and Lizzie, either with some perception of the real nature of her visit, which I could not in any way account for, or with natural Scotch jealousy and reluctance to satisfy the curiosity of strangers as to our relationship, kept on the watch after she had given baby into my charge, and got her triumphantly into the house without any intervention on the part of Domenico. Aunt Milly sank into a chair, very breathless and agitated. It was some time before she could even notice little Harry. To see her so made me more and more aware how serious this business, whatever it was, must be. “But I am too early, I suppose?” she said with a little gasp. Harry thought it was rather too early, unless he were to tell Mr. Luigi plainly what he was wanted for, which she would not permit him to do. It was a very uncomfortable interval. She sat silent, evidently with her whole mind bent upon the approaching interview. We, neither knowing the subject of it, nor what her anxiety was, had nothing to say, and I was very glad when Harry went downstairs to find the Italian. Then Aunt Milly made a hurried communication to me when we were alone, which certainly did not explain anything, but which still she evidently felt to be taking me into her confidence.