Roma smiled and shook her head. Her colour was a little warmer than usual. She was perfectly aware that the Signor was jealous of Philip Debenham. There was no need that he should be so; but she could not tell him that, and she could not be very hard upon him if he did feel somewhat bitter against his rival. Roma knew well that this man loved her, and his love gave her a deep-seated sense of joy, as well as some embarrassment and pain. Mrs. Belassis, however, put quite a different interpretation upon his words. ‘Was it always so with him?’ she asked. ‘On the contrary, he was once the kindest and best of friends. This is quite a new development.’ ‘The pride of his new position, perhaps.’ ‘Yes; a position such as his must have its grave difficulties. My friend is very bold, but I am not sure whether he has not undertaken more than he can grapple with.’ ‘I am quite of that opinion myself,’ said Mrs. Belassis, still trying to read the face before her, whilst she grew more and more convinced that the stranger held the clue to the mystery whose existence she had only vaguely guessed. From the readiness he evinced to talk on the subject, Mrs. Belassis argued that he was looking out for an ally to assist him in some attack upon the false friend, and only too ready was she to support him in such an attempt. She must contrive to secure a private interview—that must be the first step; and fortune certainly favoured her this day, for when she rose to take her departure, Signor Pagliadini rose likewise, and begged for the honour of escorting her to her own house. Side by side the two newly-made acquaintances passed out of sight of the house, silent at first, because a sudden sense of restraint seemed to have fallen upon them; but even this silence encouraged Mrs. Belassis in her theory, and she determined to make a bold plunge and see the effect. ‘Monsieur,’ she began slowly and significantly, ‘I am quite ready to help you.’ ‘Madame is good to say so; but I do not quite comprehend.’ ‘I think that you do, Monsieur.’ They paused by mutual consent, and looked at one another keenly and steadfastly. ‘Will Madame sit down?’ asked the Italian, indicating a fallen tree-trunk which lay beside the hedge. The narrow lane was shady and secluded, and it was not likely that anyone would pass by to disturb them. ‘We had better understand one another. May I ask in what way Madame proposes to assist me?’ ‘Your object, Monsieur, if I mistake you not, is to repair some great injustice which my nephew has committed against his friend. Am I not right so far as I go?’ ‘I will not say that Madame is altogether deceived; but I should like to know on what grounds you suspect your nephew.’ Mrs. Belassis hardly knew how to put into words her vague suspicions. She would much rather that her companion suggested the nature of the injustice. She tried to draw him out.