; perhaps
that would hardly do.

So the two young men parted with a good deal of genuine affection. For
the barrier of language is sometimes a blessed barrier, which only lets
pass what is good. Or--to put the thing less cynically--we may be better
in new clean words, which have never been tainted by our pettiness or
vice. Philip, at all events, lived more graciously in Italian, the very
phrases of which entice one to be happy and kind. It was horrible to
think of the English of Harriet, whose every word would be as hard, as
distinct, and as unfinished as a lump of coal.

Harriet, however, talked little. She had seen enough to know that her
brother had failed again, and with unwonted dignity she accepted the
situation. She did her packing, she wrote up her diary, she made a brown
paper cover for the new Baedeker. Philip, finding her so amenable, tried
to discuss their future plans. But she only said that they would sleep
in Florence, and told him to telegraph for rooms. They had supper
alone. Miss Abbott did not come down. The landlady told them that Signor
Carella had called on Miss Abbott to say good-bye, but she, though in,
had not been able to see him. She also told them that it had begun
to rain. Harriet sighed, but indicated to her brother that he was not
responsible.

The carriages came round at a quarter past eight. It was not raining
much, but the night was extraordinarily dark, and one of the drivers
wanted to go slowly to the station. Miss Abbott came down and said that
she was ready, and would start at once.

"Yes, do," said Philip, who was standing in the hall. "Now that we have
quarrelled we scarcely want to travel in procession all the way down the
hill. Well, good-bye; it's all over at last; another scene in my pageant
has shifted."

"Good-bye; it's been a great pleasure to see you. I hope that won't
shift, at all events." She gripped his hand.

"You sound despondent," he said, laughing. "Don't forget that you return
victorious."

"I suppose I do," she replied, more despondently than ever, and got into
the carriage. He concluded that she was thinking of her reception at
Sawston, whither her fame would doubtless precede her. Whatever would
Mrs. Herriton do? She could make things quite unpleasant when she
thought it right. She might think it right to be silent, but then there
was Harriet. Who would bridle Harriet's tongue? Between the two of
them Miss Abbott was bound to have a bad time. Her reput