lcome!" she cried. "Welcome to Monteriano!" He greeted her, for he
did not know what else to do, and a sympathetic murmur rose from the
crowd below.

"You told me to come here," she continued, "and I don't forget it. Let
me introduce Signor Carella!"

Philip discerned in the corner behind her a young man who might
eventually prove handsome and well-made, but certainly did not seem so
then. He was half enveloped in the drapery of a cold dirty curtain, and
nervously stuck out a hand, which Philip took and found thick and damp.
There were more murmurs of approval from the stairs.

"Well, din-din's nearly ready," said Lilia. "Your room's down the
passage, Philip. You needn't go changing."

He stumbled away to wash his hands, utterly crushed by her effrontery.

"Dear Caroline!" whispered Lilia as soon as he had gone. "What an angel
you've been to tell him! He takes it so well. But you must have had a
MAUVAIS QUART D'HEURE."

Miss Abbott's long terror suddenly turned into acidity. "I've told
nothing," she snapped. "It's all for you--and if it only takes a quarter
of an hour you'll be lucky!"

Dinner was a nightmare. They had the smelly dining-room to themselves.
Lilia, very smart and vociferous, was at the head of the table; Miss
Abbott, also in her best, sat by Philip, looking, to his irritated
nerves, more like the tragedy confidante every moment. That scion of the
Italian nobility, Signor Carella, sat opposite. Behind him loomed a bowl
of goldfish, who swam round and round, gaping at the guests.

The face of Signor Carella was twitching too much for Philip to study
it. But he could see the hands, which were not particularly clean, and
did not get cleaner by fidgeting amongst the shining slabs of hair.
His starched cuffs were not clean either, and as for his suit, it had
obviously been bought for the occasion as something really English--a
gigantic check, which did not even fit. His handkerchief he had
forgotten, but never missed it. Altogether, he was quite unpresentable,
and very lucky to have a father who was a dentist in Monteriano. And
why, even Lilia--But as soon as the meal began it furnished Philip with
an explanation.

For the youth was hungry, and his lady filled his plate with spaghetti,
and when those delicious slippery worms were flying down his throat, his
face relaxed and became for a moment unconscious and calm. And Philip
had seen that face before in Italy a hundred times--seen it and loved
it, f