ashioned works of art and
rare curiosities, declaring that he had brought them there for the
express purpose of giving them a memento of Florence before they left
the city.

Then he bade them choose, and, leaving Edith and Mrs. Hartley to make
their own selection, which they did modestly enough, letting him off at
about a sovereign a-piece, he insisted on prompting and practically
dictating the choice of Lettice, who, by constraint and cajolery
together, was made to carry away a set of intaglios that must have cost
him fifty pounds at least.

She had no idea of their value, but she was uneasy at having taken the
gift. What would he conclude from her acceptance of such a valuable
present? It was true that she was covered to some extent by the fact
that Edith and Mrs. Hartley were with her at the time, but she could not
feel satisfied about the propriety of her conduct, and she had a subtle
argument with herself as to the necessity of returning the gems sooner
or later, unless she was prepared to be compromised in the opinion of
her three friends.

She had for the present, however, banished these unpleasant doubts from
her mind, and the guilty author of her previous discomfort stood idly by
her side, smoking his cigar, and watching the people as they passed
along the road. The other ladies were out of sight, and thus Brooke and
Lettice were left alone.

After a time she noticed the absence of her friends, and turned round
quickly to look for them. Brooke saw the action, and felt that if he did
not speak now he might never get such a good opportunity. So, with
nothing but instinct for his guide, he plunged into the business without
further hesitation.

"I hope you will allow, Miss Campion, that I know how to be silent when
the occasion requires it! I did not break in upon your reverie, and
should not have done so, however long it might have lasted."

"I am sorry you have had to stand sentinel," said Lettice; "but you told
me once that a woman never need pity a man for being kept waiting so
long as he had a cigar to smoke."

"That is quite true; and I have not been an object for pity at all.
Unless you will pity me for having to bring my holiday to an end. You
know that Edith and I are leaving Florence on Monday?"

"Yes, Edith told me; but she did not speak as though it would end your
holiday. She said that you might go on to Rome--that you had not made up
your mind what to do."

"That is so--it depends upon cir