‘Look, mamma! aren’t the cloisters lovely?’ Margaret’s voice suddenly sounded across the little court. ‘Oh, there are Marcia and Paul over there! We wondered where you had disappeared to.’ ‘Oh, the deuce!’ Paul exclaimed as he put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the pillar. ‘I told you,’ he added, with a laugh, ‘that my family always arrived when they were not wanted!’ They all strolled about together, and Marcia scarcely glanced at him again. But her consciousness was filled with his words, and it required all her self-possession to keep up her part of the conversation. As they started on, Mrs. Royston suggested that they stop a second time at the English cemetery just within the gate. Marcia, looking at her watch, saw with a feeling of relief that she would have to go straight on if she were to catch Mrs. Copley and Gerald in time for the six o’clock train. Bidding them good-bye at the Porta San Paolo, she hastily and emphatically refused Paul’s proposition to drive to the station with her. ‘No, indeed, Mr. Dessart,’ she called out, as he was making arrangements with Mrs. Royston to meet later at the hotel, ‘I don’t want you to come with me; I shouldn’t think of taking you away. My aunt will be at the station, and I am perfectly capable of getting there alone. Really, I don’t want to trouble you.’ He put his foot on the carriage-step. ‘It’s no trouble,’ he smiled. ‘No, no; I would rather go alone. I shall _really_ be angry if you come,’ she insisted in a low tone. The young man shrugged and removed his foot from the step. ‘As you please,’ he returned in a tone which carried an impression of slightly wounded feelings. The driver looked back expectantly, waiting for his directions. Paul hesitated a moment, and then turned toward her again as if inquiring the way. ‘Is there any hope for me?’ he said. She looked away without answering. ‘There’s no other man?’ he added quickly. Marcia for a second looked up in his face. ‘No,’ she shook her head, ‘there’s no other man.’ He straightened up, with a happy laugh. ‘Then I’ll win,’ he whispered, and he shook her hand as if on a compact. ‘_Stazione_,’ he called to the driver. And as the carriage started, Marcia glanced back and nodded toward the Roystons, with a quick smile for Paul. CHAPTER VIII ‘AH, Sybert, you’re just the man I wanted to see!’ Melville came up the walk of the palazzo occupied by the American ambassador as Sybert, emerging from the door, paused on the top step to draw on his gloves. ‘In that case,’ the latter returned, ‘it’s well you didn’t come five minutes later, or I should have been lost to the world for the afternoon. What’s up?’ ‘Nothing serious. Can you spare me a few moments’ talk? I won’t take up your time if you are in a hurry.’ ‘Not in the least. I’m entirely at your disposal. Nothing on for the afternoon, and I was preparing to loaf.’