"This is a fortunate day for me," said the latter; "as I was returning from a walk to the Fontana Paolina, I met Mrs. and Miss Adair, who kindly permitted me to accompany them here, and now we meet you who are such a connoisseur in painting, our visit will be doubly instructive."
"I believe the custode undertakes to point out everything of note," replied Mr. Earnscliffe, stiffly. "It is usually so when one goes round with visitors in such places. But we are keeping the man waiting." He motioned him on, and they all followed.
It would have been too harsh had he not asked Flora if she felt perfectly recovered from her sprain; and in formal politeness Mr. Earnscliffe was scrupulously exact; so he said in a cold tone, "I hope, Miss Adair, that you do not feel any lingering inconvenience from your sprain?"
"None in the least, I thank you, as you will see by my dancing at Mrs. Elton's on Friday night. Helena told me that we were to have the pleasure of meeting you there."
"Yes, I promised Miss Elton to go; she said it was a farewell."
"So it is; they leave Rome on the Monday after. We met them yesterday evening on the Pincio after their visit to the Catacombs."
"Indeed!" He turned away, and seemed intent upon looking at the frescoes and listening to the guide's remarks about them.
Flora was gazing abstractedly at Domenichino's Deliverance of Prometheus, as she leaned back against the wall opposite. She could not rid herself of the chill which she felt from the moment that Mr. Earnscliffe had shaken hands with her, and yet had she been asked why, she could not have given a very clear answer. But who does not know that vague sensation of unhappiness which the manner of one dear to us sometimes causes us to feel, although there may not be any positive or, at least, any definable change in it such as an indifferent person could see?
How well she remembered what Mr. Earnscliffe had said to her about this Farnese Palazzo. All that he had told her of its founder, Alessandro Farnese, afterwards Paul III.; of its architecture, of its frescoes; how it had descended to the royal family of Naples, and eventually become their refuge and dwelling-place in exile. But how different he was on this day. He hardly noticed or spoke to her, save those few words of ordinary civility about her accident. She thought it was too provoking of him to be so changeable, but the next moment she felt indignant against herself for harbouring even a suspicion against him, and thought it was but natural that a clever man like him should not care greatly to talk in such a place to one like herself. When she was a prisoner it was otherwise; then he thought himself in some measure bound to try to amuse her; but that was all past, and his manner to her now was just what she ought to have expected.
Nevertheless, Flora wished that they had not come there then. Suddenly it struck her that it was all that tiresome Mr. Lyne's fault; if he had not met them and said that the king and queen were away, perhaps they might not have come.