They say that one marriage makes nine, by example, and Fitz, seeing that Bertie had been brave enough to declare his love, determined to do so also.
That night there was another conversazione at Lady Merivale's, and Fitz knew that the Mildmays would be guests.
He had an invitation, and he determined to go, though such things were not in his way, hoping to find an opportunity of declaring his long love for Violet.
The night was hot, and Fitz felt burning uneasiness and fear, for he feared Violet as much as he loved her.
He knew within his heart of hearts that she was too good for him, and yet he could not deny himself the pleasure or pain of putting the matter to the test.
Lady Merivale's rooms were not too crowded. Her ladyship had mercifully asked no more than her rooms would hold, and Fitz, as he entered rather early in the evening, could see that the Mildmays party had not arrived.
"Just my luck," he murmured. "Of course, now I've plucked up courage, she won't come. Serve me right. I know she's far too precious for me."
He sauntered to a corner and sat down beside an Italian, who had a series of sketches to show and tried to get poor Fitz to speak to him.
But the Italian only knew "Yes" and "No" in English, and Fitz only knew "Macaroni" in Italian, so thus the conversation did not afford much amusement to either party.
Presently, as the rooms grew fuller, a tall gentleman with white hair and wearing spectacles approached the two, and, bowing to the Italian, asked permission to see the sketches.