back feeling in the library.
The ladies had been waiting for coffee. Sir William was waiting, too.
Therefore in a little tension, half silent, the coffee was handed round.
Lady Franks was discussing something with Arthur's wife. Arthur's
wife was in a cream lace dress, and looking what is called lovely.
The Major's wife was in amethyst chiffon with dark-red roses, and
was looking blindingly beautiful. The Colonel was looking into his
coffee-cup as wistfully as if it contained the illusion of tawny port.
The Major was looking into space, as if there and there alone, etc.
Arthur was looking for something which Lady Franks had asked for, and
which he was much too flushed to find. Sir William was looking at Aaron,
and preparing for another _coeur a coeur_.

"Well," he said, "I doubt if you will care for Milan. It is one of the
least Italian of all the towns, in my opinion. Venice, of course, is a
thing apart. I cannot stand, myself, that miserable specimen the modern
Roman. He has most of the vices of the old Romans and none of the
virtues. The most congenial town, perhaps, for a stranger, is Florence.
But it has a very bad climate."

Lady Franks rose significantly and left the room, accompanied by
Arthur's wife. Aaron knew, silently, that he was summoned to follow.
His hostess had her eye on him this evening. But always postponing his
obedience to the cool commands of women, he remained talking with his
host in the library, and sipping _creme de menthe_! Came the ripple
of the pianoforte from the open doorway down at the further end of the
room. Lady Franks was playing, in the large drawing-room. And the ripple
of the music contained in it the hard insistence of the little woman's
will. Coldly, and decidedly, she intended there should be no more
unsettling conversations for the old Sir William. Aaron was to come
forthwith into the drawing room. Which Aaron plainly understood--and
so he didn't go. No, he didn't go, though the pianoforte rippled and
swelled in volume. No, and he didn't go even when Lady Franks left off
playing and came into the library again. There he sat, talking with Sir
William. Let us do credit to Lady Franks' will-power, and admit that the
talk was quite empty and distracted--none of the depths and skirmishes
of the previous occasions. None the less, the talk continued. Lady
Franks retired, discomfited, to her piano again. She would never break
in upon her lord.

So now Aaron relented. He became more