"Arbi," replied Flora.
"Thank you;" then turning to Marie, he continued—"Then, Mademoiselle Arbi, we may expect to have the pleasure of your company this afternoon?"
"Oui, Monsieur," replied Marie, blushing. Whenever she was eager about anything, or particularly shy, as she was at that moment, she spoke French.
Flora now moved on after the others, who had gone into the next room, and Marie followed her as closely as possible, in terror at the thought of having to keep up a tête-à-tête talk with Mr. Barkley.
The conversation now became general, and naturally turned upon painting; so, between talking of, and admiring, the many beautiful works contained in the Uffizi, the hours sped on until past two o'clock. It was then decided that they should go home for luncheon, and take a rest before the fatigues of the afternoon began.
After leaving the gallery, they stopped to flâner a little in the Arcades. Mr. Barkley had succeeded very fairly in dispelling Marie's shyness of him. He made her laugh merrily at his account of some of his adventures in Sicily, and his ridiculous mistakes in the language, which he then knew but slightly. His French, however, was perfect; and this was to Marie a great boon. He purposely lingered at one of the stalls, explaining something which he had pointed out to her, until the others had got into the Piazza della Signoria; and having thus managed that she should walk home with him, he exclaimed, "I declare they are half way across the Piazza! What a hurry they are in! But do not tire yourself; we shall easily keep them in sight, and that is all we require. But that we must do, or we should not find our way to our hotels."
He took care, however, not to overtake them before they reached the hotel, at the door of which they had to wait a minute or two for Marie. When she and her cavalier did come up, Mr. Blake said, "Can you find the road to your abode, Mr. Barkley; or shall I accompany you?"
"Thank you, it is so near that I cannot mistake my way. Good morning."