"Yes," the Countess answered in a more confident tone. "She particularly wanted to consult the Bishop of Mesopotamia. She believes in him very much. Oh, so do I. I do believe, Andrea, that if you knew the Bishop of—"
"My dear, I don't want to know the Bishop of Mesopotamia; but Lucia is perfectly at liberty to consult him as much as she pleases. I don't see any need for mystery."
"No, neither do I," murmured the Countess. "But dear Lucia is—is so sensitive, you know."
"I remember seeing him about Rome very well. I must ask Lucia whether he still wears that—"
"Really, the less you question Lucia about her journey the better, dear Andrea," said the Countess, in a tone which was very affectionate, but also marked by much decision. And there can be no doubt she spoke the truth, from her own point of view, at least. "Would n't it be kind to send for her now?" she added. In fact the Countess found this interview, so gratifying and delightful in its main aspect, rather difficult in certain minor ways, and Lucia would be a convenient ally. It was much better, too, that they should talk about one another in one another's presence. That is always more straightforward; and, in this case, it would minimise the chances of a misunderstanding in the future. For instance, if Lucia showed ignorance about the Bishop of Mesopotamia—! "Do let's send for Lucia," the Countess said again, coaxingly; and the Count, after a playful show of unwillingness to end their tête-à-tête, at last consented.
But here was another difficulty—Lucia could not be found. The right wing was searched without result; she was nowhere. On the chance, unlikely indeed but possible, that she had taken advantage of the new state of things, they searched the left wing too—with an equal absence of result. Lucia was nowhere in the house; so it was reported. The Count was very much surprised.
"Can she have gone out at this time of night?" he cried.
The Countess was not much surprised. She well understood how Lucia might have gone out a little way—far enough, say, to look for Captain Dieppe, and make him aware of how matters stood. But she did not suggest this explanation to her husband; explanations are to be avoided when they themselves require too much explaining.
"It's very fine now," said she, looking out of the window. "Perhaps she's just gone for a turn on the road."
"What for?" asked the Count, spreading out his hands in some bewilderment.