The question sounded abrupt, but Dalton had not the air of a man who wants to turn the conversation.
"No," said Sydney, in some surprise. "Where are you going?"
"Well, Edith wants to go to Italy, and I should not wonder if we were to come across a cousin of mine, Mrs. Hartley, who is now at Florence. You know her, I believe?"
"I hardly know her, but I have heard a good deal about her. She has been very kind to my sister—nursed her through a long illness, and looked after her in the most generous manner possible. I am under great obligations to Mrs. Hartley. I hope you will say so to her if you meet."
"All right. Anything else I can do for you? No doubt we shall see your sister. We are old friends, you know. And I have met her several times at my cousin's this winter."
"At those wonderful Sunday gatherings of hers?"
"I dropped in casually one day, and found Miss Campion there—and I admit that I went pretty regularly afterwards, in the hope of improving the acquaintance. If I were to tell you that I am going to Florence now for precisely the same reason, would you, as her brother, wish me good speed, or advise me to keep away?"
"Wish you good speed?"
"Why, yes! Is not my meaning clear?"
"My dear Dalton, you have taken me absolutely by surprise," said Sydney, laying down his cigar. "But, if I understand you aright, I do wish you good speed, and with all my heart."