Marcia studied the sky a moment with an heroic effort at seriousness, and then she began to laugh. ‘I suppose we might as well make the best of it,’ she remarked. ‘Philosophy is the wisest way,’ he agreed. ‘Have you seen Gervasio?’ ‘I have not yet paid my respects to him. He is well, I trust?’ ‘He is simply a walking appetite!’ ‘I thought he showed a tendency that way. Mrs. Copley says that you have been suffering persecution for his sake.’ ‘Did she tell you about his stepfather? That’s my story; she ought to have left it for me. I can tell it much more dramatically. It was quite an adventure, wasn’t it?’ ‘It was. And you got off easily. It might have turned out to be more of an adventure than you would have cared for.’ ‘Oh, I like adventures.’ ‘When they’re ended safely, yes. But these Italian peasants are a revengeful lot when they get it into their heads that they have been mistreated. I don’t believe you ought to drive about the country that way.’ ‘I should think that two boys and a groom might be escort enough—the pony-carriage doesn’t accommodate many more.’ ‘Nevertheless, joking apart, I don’t think it is safe. The country’s pretty thoroughly stirred up just at present.’ ‘You’re as bad as Aunt Katherine with her tattooed man! As for being afraid of these peasants, I know every soul in Castel Vivalanti, and they’re all adorable—with the exception of Gervasio’s relatives.’ ‘If I were your uncle,’ he observed, ‘I should prefer a niece readier to take suggestions.’ ‘I am ready to take his suggestions, but you’re not my uncle.’ ‘No,’ said Sybert, ‘I am not; and——’ ‘And what?’ Marcia asked. He laughed. ‘I believe we declared an amnesty, did we not? Do you think it is best to reopen hostilities?’ ‘It strikes me that there has been more or less light skirmishing in spite of the amnesty.’ ‘At least there has been no serious damage done on either side. I would suggest, if heavy firing is to be recommenced, that we postpone it until the ride home.’ ‘Very well. Let’s talk some more about the weather. It seems to be the only subject on which we can agree.’ Sybert bowed gravely. ‘It’s been rather rainy for the last week.’ ‘Very.’ ‘The villa must have been a little damp.’ ‘Very.’ ‘And rather monotonous?’ ‘Very!’ Marcia laughed and gave the dialogue a new turn. ‘I spent the time reading.’ ‘Indeed?’ ‘The _Egoist_.’ ‘Meredith? Don’t you find him a trifle—er—for rainy weather, you know?’ ‘I found the _Egoist_,’ she returned, ‘a most suggestive work. It throws interesting side-lights on the men one knows.’ ‘Oh, come, Miss Marcia,’ he remonstrated. ‘That’s hardly fair; you slander us.’ ‘You mustn’t blame me—you must blame the author. It’s a man who wrote it.’ ‘He should be regarded as a traitor. In case he is captured and brought into camp, I shall order him shot at sunrise.’