ignorina will not be
offended with me for saying this of her friend, for I can not help
remarking it. My aunt is not old, though older than that Signora. And
she is handsome; but of course the Signora is much handsomer and grander
than a poor peasant woman."

"I think," said Mary, willing to change the subject, "that we had better
see our rooms, and have the fires lighted. Give my friends the best
there is--two rooms adjoining, and I will take what is left. We shall
stay with you a few days--perhaps more. We can't settle our plans quite
yet."

"The longer, the better for me, Signorina," Apollonia replied. She
smiled at her new mistress; but when her look turned to Lady Dauntrey
she secretly "made horns" with the first and last fingers of the hand
that held the dog; the sign which Italians and Arabs use to keep off the
evil eye.

She opened doors, holding her smoky lamp high, and with the air of a
hospitable queen (such as most Italian peasant women have), she showed
to the Signorina the splendours of her domain. They were, to be sure,
but tarnished and dilapidated splendours, nevertheless Mary began to
understand even in the gloom of night how these great rooms, peopled now
with shadows, had appealed to Hannaford. She could guess what the view
from windows and garden must be like, and had she come to the house in
happier circumstances she would have looked forward to seeing
everything in morning sunshine. As it was, she wished for one thing
only: for the moment when she could be alone, to think, and write her
letter to Vanno.

Mary and her guests refused food but accepted coffee, made quickly and
well by Apollonia. They drank from cracked or chipped but beautiful cups
of old Sevres, and shivered in an immense Empire dining-room, while
Apollonia lighted fires and warmed beds in the "best rooms" upstairs,
which they had not yet mustered courage to visit. Lady Dauntrey became
more cheerful over the hot coffee, and atoned to her husband for past
taunts and reproaches by a manner of almost deprecating affection. Mary
had never seen her so soft and sweet. She was a different woman, and
even her expression was changed. The girl could not help remembering
what Apollonia had said about the "witch-eyes"; but she thought the
Italian would not have found a likeness to the terrible aunt could she
now have seen Lady Dauntrey for the first time. Mary was glad of the
change for Lord Dauntrey's sake, because, though he was weak, pe