When the introduction from Signor Mattei was brought forward, Phil had himself to read it to the blind man. By a dexterous and very slight transposition and alteration, the impression conveyed by the letter was, that Marco Pagliadini was quite an old friend, and had been known to Signor Mattei from his youth upwards. The invitation to become an inmate at Michael Meredith’s was very welcome, and was so warmly pressed that it had not to be too eagerly accepted. Fortune certainly seemed to favour Phil, for as a guest in this house he could not fail to have many opportunities for making inquiries and finding out all that was possible about Tor’s line of action. His former acquaintance with the two Englishmen, which he lost no time in making known, gave colour to the interest he could not but show in all connected with Ladywell, and especially in the actions of its present master. He was ill pleased to find what warm allies he had made even in this house. Mr. Meredith was never tired of singing his praises, and even Roma threw off something of her usual calm to defend, when Phil made a covert attack upon him, the man who, did she but know it, so ill deserved her goodwill. Tor’s hasty disappearance, to avoid a meeting with anyone who had known him abroad, was a significant fact, and showed that he was really ill at ease, in spite of his popularity. But that evening spent in company with Roma lulled into temporary oblivion all thoughts of anger or vengeance. Roma was, in his opinion, the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and his somewhat fervent nature was soon all ablaze with the ardour of a dangerous admiration, all the more dangerous because Roma seemed with every hour to grow more gentle, more pensive, more trustful. He almost forgot the object of his visit in the happiness of her society, and he was far upon the way from which there is no retreat, before the first evening had passed. It seemed to him that his one object in coming to England had been to find Roma, and that to win her love was now the only object worth living for. But his thoughts were turned into a different channel the next day, by a visit Maud paid to her friend’s studio. Phil was with Roma, watching her work, for Michael Meredith was not yet down; and the young man forgot, as did also Roma, the foreign ideas of fitness of things, and assumed an English freedom, which seemed to them quite natural and proper under the circumstances. ‘I am expecting Miss Debenham for a sitting. She promised to come this morning. You will see then if she so resembles her brother.’ Phil, so to speak, pricked up his ears. ‘Miss Debenham coming here?’ ‘Yes, Signor.’ ‘May I be permitted to stay? Will she or you think it too great an intrusion? I should so like some converse with my old friend’s sister.’ ‘Maud will be delighted, I am sure. She is the merriest girl in the world, and adores her brother. Any friend of his will be welcome.’