"Si! si! si!" Bellaria placed her hands on her hips and nodded three times emphatically. "But you will not like the world. No, ah, Dio mio! the world is a dangerous and evil place." And she looked in a scared manner over her shoulder, shivering in the warm air. The Florentine had been a handsome woman, tall and dark, and of a commanding appearance. She was still remarkably straight at the age of fifty-six, and carried herself with a defiant air when forgetful of the danger that threatened her, whatsoever that might be. Then she would cringe and wince, as Gerald had just seen her do. Her eyes were large and black, but the pupils were dilated, and she looked like a terrified rabbit. Apparently the woman had cause to fear some enemy or some punishment, for not only were her eyes scared-looking, but her plentiful hair was absolutely snow-white. This might have been age, but fifty-six is not a very great age, and the hair might easily have been an iron-grey. There was certainly some shadow on her life which threatened disaster, and only when she forgot the danger, in conversation with Mavis, did Bellaria appear defiant and stately and tolerably young. But the very slightest reminder of that past--and the past apparently contained the danger referred to--and her form dwindled, her body bent, her eyes grew timid, and she aged to seventy, as though by enchantment. All this might have been fancy on Haskins' part, for he was extremely imaginative, but he believed that he had read the woman rightly. Whatever might be the reason, Bellaria Dondi had been frightened into this lonely house; there to hide from some appalling danger. It appeared that the fit of terror tormented her now, and that she had sought Mavis' company from sheer dread of solitude. Quite ignorant of the man up the tree--or rather the lover who was seated on the wall--Bellaria sat near the trunk, talking to Mavis. Both the lovers were afraid lest their secret should be discovered, but Bellaria kept up so loud a conversation--and it seemed as though she spoke loudly to reassure herself--that the occasional movements of Haskins passed unheeded. Mavis proved herself to be a capable actress, despite her simplicity, for nothing could have been more artless than her demeanor. "Geary is coming to see me to-night," said Bellaria, after a pause, and the observation startled the listener. "He sent a message by Matthew"--this was the aged, cross gardener, of whom Mavis had spoken. "Why is he coming?" questioned Mavis. "Major Rebb told him to come and see that the young man who is stopping at the Devon Maid has not been lurking about here." "What young man?" asked Mavis coolly. "I have told you. A friend of the Major's, who is stopping at Geary's inn. He has taken to rowing on the river, and might find this place." "I wish he would," said the girl, truthfully. "I should like to see a really young man."