ade quite a
handsome picture: but he was frail.

"And where are you bound, Mr. Sisson? Towards Rome?"

"I came to meet Lilly," said Aaron.

"Ah! But Lilly has fled over the borders by this time. Never was such a
man for crossing frontiers. Wonderful person, to be able to do it."

"Where has he gone?" said Aaron.

"I think to Geneva for the moment. But he certainly talked of Venice.
You yourself have no definite goal?"

"No."

"Ah! You have not come to Italy to practice your art?"

"I shall HAVE to practice it: or else--no, I haven't come for that."

"Ah, you will HAVE to practice it. Ah, yes! We are all under the
necessity to eat. And you have a family in England? Am I not right?"

"Quite. I've got a family depending on me."

"Yes, then you must practice your art: you must practice your art.
Well--shall we join the ladies? Coffee will no doubt be served."

"Will you take my arm, Sir?" said the well-nourished Arthur.

"Thank you, thank you," the old man motioned him away.

So they went upstairs to where the three women were sitting in the
library round the fire, chattering not very interested. The entry of Sir
William at once made a stir.

The girl in white, with the biggish nose, fluttered round him. She was
Arthur's wife. The girl in soft blue spread herself on the couch: she
was the young Major's wife, and she had a blue band round her hair. The
Colonel hovered stout and fidgetty round Lady Franks and the liqueur
stand. He and the Major were both in khaki--belonging to the service on
duty in Italy still.

Coffee appeared--and Sir William doled out _creme de menthe_. There
was no conversation--only tedious words. The little party was just
commonplace and dull--boring. Yet Sir William, the self-made man, was a
study. And the young, Oxford-like Major, with his English diffidence and
his one dark, pensive, baffled eye was only waiting to be earnest, poor
devil.

The girl in white had been a sort of companion to Lady Franks, so that
Arthur was more or less a son-in-law. In this capacity, he acted. Aaron
strayed round uneasily looking at the books, bought but not read, and at
the big pictures above. It was Arthur who fetched out the little boxes
containing the orders conferred on Sir William for his war-work: and
perhaps more, for the many thousands of pounds he had spent on his
war-work.

There were three orders: one British, and quite important, a large
silver star for the breast: one Italian, small