ets to Nora, who took them up
doubtfully.

"It is in Italian!" she said, as though she resented the fact.

"Well, of course! Did you think it would be in Russian? You really ought
to learn Italian, Nora. Shall I teach you?"

"Well--it might be useful for my Literature," said Nora slowly. "There
are all those fellows Chaucer borrowed from--and then Shakespeare. I
wouldn't mind."

"Thank you!" said Connie, laughing. "And then look at the French news.
That's thrilling! Sir Wilfrid's going to throw up the Embassy and
retire. I stayed with them a night in Paris on my way through--and they
never breathed. But I thought something was up. Sir Wilfrid's a queer
temper. I expect he's had a row with the Foreign Office. They were years
in Rome, and of course we knew them awfully well. Mamma adored her!"

And leaning back with her hands behind her head, Connie's sparkling look
subsided for a moment into a dreamy sweetness.

"I suppose you think Oxford a duck-pond after all that!" said Nora
pugnaciously.

Constance laughed.

"Why, it's new. It's experience. It's all to the good."

"Oh, you needn't suppose I am apologising for Oxford!" cried Nora. "I
think, of course, it's the most interesting place in the world. It's
ideas that matter, and ideas come from the universities!" And the
child-student of seventeen drew herself up proudly, as though she bore
the honour of all _academie_ on her sturdy shoulders.

Constance went into a fit of laughter.

"And I think they come from the people who do things, and not only from
the people who read and write about them when they're done. But
goodness--what does it matter where they come from? Go away, Nora, and
let me dress!"

"There are several things I want to know," said Nora deliberately, not
budging. "Where did you get to know Mr. Falloden?"

The colour ran up inconveniently in Connie's cheeks.

"I told you," she said impatiently. "No!--I suppose you weren't there. I
met him on the Riviera. He came out for the Christmas holidays. He was
in the villa next to us, and we saw him every day."

"How you must have hated him!" said Nora, with energy, her hands round
her knees, her dark brows frowning.

Constance laughed again, but rather angrily.

"Why should I hate him, please? He's extraordinarily clever--"

"Yes, but such a snob!" said Nora, setting her white teeth. Connie
sprang up in bed.

"Nora, really, the way you talk of other people's friends. You should
learn--indee