very liberal; so that when they offered to take her, to attend to
the children, and to speak the language for them, and to comfort the
lady, she was only too glad to go, little foreseeing the end of it.
Moreover, she loved the children so, from their pretty ways and that,
and the things they gave her, and the style of their dresses, that it
would have broken her heart almost never to see the dears again.

"And so, in a very evil hour, she accepted the service of the noble
Englishman, and sent her father an old shoe filled to the tongue with
money, and trusted herself to fortune. But even before she went, she
knew that it could not turn out well; for the laurel leaf which she
threw on the fire would not crackle even once, and the horn of the goat
came wrong in the twist, and the heel of her foot was shining. This made
her sigh at the starting-time; and after that what could you hope for?

"However, at first all things went well. My Lord was as gay as gay could
be: and never would come inside the carriage, when a decent horse could
be got to ride. He would gallop in front, at a reckless pace, without a
weapon of any kind, delighted with the pure blue air, and throwing his
heart around him. Benita had never seen any man so admirable, and so
childish. As innocent as an infant; and not only contented, but noisily
happy with anything. Only other people must share his joy; and the
shadow of sorrow scattered it, though it were but the shade of poverty.

"Here Benita wept a little; and I liked her none the less, and believed
her ten times more; in virtue of a tear or two.

"And so they travelled through Northern Italy, and throughout the south
of France, making their way anyhow; sometimes in coaches, sometimes in
carts, sometimes upon mule-back, sometimes even a-foot and weary; but
always as happy as could be. The children laughed, and grew, and throve
(especially the young lady, the elder of the two), and Benita began
to think that omens must not be relied upon. But suddenly her faith in
omens was confirmed for ever.

"My Lord, who was quite a young man still, and laughed at English
arrogance, rode on in front of his wife and friends, to catch the first
of a famous view, on the French side of the Pyrenee hills. He kissed his
hand to his wife, and said that he would save her the trouble of coming.
For those two were so one in one, that they could make each other know
whatever he or she had felt. And so my Lord went round the