"Well--that settles it!" He finished the letter and picked up the time-table with a frown. "I might be able to help the child----" He turned the pages thoughtfully. "I can catch the express at Genoa and go straight through next Friday--I think. I shall get back in time for Henley. It ought to be jolly in London now." This settled, he dressed for lunch and informed Mario of his departure, somewhat to the latter's chagrin, who had various ties at Viareggio. "The Signore will not be here for the races?" The man's voice was so doleful that McTaggart hesitated, remembering they were fixed for Sunday. "Well--we might stay over the week-end, and go on Monday--perhaps that's better." The man blessed him audibly with the gentle familiarity that seems to exist in that old land between the nobility and their servants. "You can take a holiday on Sunday--so long as you get my packing done--and say good-bye to Lucia?" He laughed at the man's guilty face. "Ahi!--_That_ for the women!" Mario, recovering himself, gave an expressive, scornful shrug--"But the races are a different matter!--and I hear 'La Luna' is sure to win." McTaggart smiled, cutting short the man's chatter, and went down to receive his guests, a little bored by the coming lunch. His fears were amply justified. The poet was in a sombre mood, the Principessa plainly anxious. "It's his new Tragedy," she whispered as they settled themselves at the table--"he is so sensitive, my dear--the penalty of genius." McTaggart, with a solemn face, received these subtle confidences, somewhat relieved by the presence of his other neighbour, graceful and young. But the Countess Marco Viviani was not in her usual high spirits. A slim brunette, with a wonderful figure, and much admired in the Roman set, she could not brook in any form opposition to her will. She explained in an audible aside her quarrel--a new-born affair--with her husband, who faced McTaggart and watched the pair with insolent eyes. It seemed that he had required of her an alteration in the days, arranged between them, when they should appear side by side at the Casino. Wednesdays and Saturdays had been fixed in order to allow the Count Tuesdays and Fridays to himself to parade there his latest theatrical fancy. Now "La Carlotta" was making trouble. She wanted to interfere with the rule. But the Countess was adamant. She would not bend before the actress. "It will make a scandal," she announced. "Everyone knows those are _my_ days! I would prefer to leave the place and go to Bagni di Luca." But the villa at Viareggio belonged to the Count and he clearly saw that economy forbade a rupture which would mean a second establishment. So he sulked, undecided still, hating his handsome, captious wife--who had known the existence of many "Carlottas" and was plainly unreasonable!