Among Mrs. De Wolfe's friends at Bellaggio, was a certain lady, known to her intimates as "Sally Horne," a well endowed, unencumbered widow of sixty; her daughter was married to an Indian official, her son was quartered in Cairo,—and her London house was let! She and her maid were staying at the "Victoria," where she had many acquaintances, and vainly endeavoured to inveigle Mrs. De Wolfe to cross the water, and establish herself in her company,—but Mrs. De Wolfe declining the lure of Bridge, preferred to remain where she was!
The afternoon that Nancy and Sir Dudley set out to sketch the Baptistery, Mrs. Horne came over to see her friend. The old lady was sitting in the little garden by the lake, and recognizing her visitor on the boat, hastened to meet, and welcome her.
"Would you like to go inside, Sally?" she asked, "or shall we have tea out here?"
"I've had tea, thank you," said Mrs. Horne, "but by all means let us sit outside. Where's your girl?" she inquired, looking round, and her air was inquisitorial.
"Gone up to Lenno to finish a sketch."
"With Sir Dudley?"
Mrs. De Wolfe nodded a careless assent. After a moment's hesitation this bold visitor announced: "I have something disagreeable to say to you, Elizabeth."
"You needn't tell me that!" rejoined her companion, with a grim smile, "I saw it in your face, before you came off the boat."
"I wonder if I shall make you very angry!"
"Try," said Mrs. De Wolfe; the word was a challenge, "I've not been in a good wholesome rage for ages."