He disappeared through the bushes. She went indoors to give the
order; and this is how it happened that Domenico, for the second time
that evening, found himself journeying into Mezzago and wondering as he
went.

Then, having made the necessary arrangements for the perfect
happiness of these two people, she came slowly out into the garden
again, very much absorbed in thought. Love seemed to bring happiness
to everybody but herself. It had certainly got hold of everybody
there, in its different varieties, except herself. Poor Mr. Briggs had
been got hold of by its least dignified variety. Poor Mr. Briggs. He
was a disturbing problem, and his going away next day wouldn't she was
afraid solve him.

When she reached the others Mr. Arundel--she kept on forgetting
that he wasn't Mr. Arundel--was already, his arm through Rose's, going
off with her, probably to the greater seclusion of the lower garden.
No doubt they had a great deal to say to each other; something had gone
wrong between them, and had suddenly been put right. San Salvatore,
Lotty would say, San Salvatore working its spell of happiness. She
could quite believe in its spell. Even she was happier there than she
had been for ages and ages. The only person who would go empty away
would be Mr. Briggs.

Poor Mr. Briggs. When she came in sight of the group he looked
much too nice and boyish not to be happy. It seemed out of the picture
that the owner of the place, the person to whom they owed all this,
should be the only one to go away from it unblessed.

Compunction seized Scrap. What very pleasant days she had spent
in his house, lying in his garden, enjoying his flowers, loving his
views, using his things, being comfortable, being rested--recovering,
in fact. She had had the most leisured, peaceful, and thoughtful time
of her life; and all really thanks to him. Oh, she knew she paid him
some ridiculous small sum a week, out of all proportion to the benefits
she got in exchange, but what was that in the balance? And wasn't it
entirely thanks to him that she had come across Lotty? Never else
would she and Lotty have met; never else would she have known her.

Compunction laid its quick, warm hand on Scrap. Impulsive
gratitude flooded her. She went straight up to Briggs.

"I owe you so much," she said, overcome by the sudden realization
of all she did owe him, and ashamed of her churlishness in the
afternoon and at dinner. Of course he hadn't