"I'd better go now, I have offended you," and she half rose.
Margaret put out her white hand, and laid it on her arm with a gentle pressure.
"Do not," she said. "You have not offended me. And now, will you tell me something about yourself?"
She asked the question, not that she was at all curious, though the girl interested her, but to put her more at her ease.
"With all the heart in the world," was the instant reply. "Do you see that villa there—that one with the turrets? That is ours; mamma and Ferdinand, my brother, live there. It is called the Villa Capri; and, do you know, there are some beautiful views from it. If I were sure you wouldn't be offended, I would ask you to come and pay us a visit, and see if you could not make a picture of the river running below the woods. Oh, I would like that!"
Something in the girl's voice attracted Margaret's attention.
"Are you Italian?" she said.
"Half and half," was the reply, with a laugh. "My father was Italian, my mother is English. I call myself all English—please do not forget that!" she added, with all an English girl's frankness. "My brother, we say, represents the Italian side of the family. I should like you to know him. He is out riding this morning——"
Almost as she spoke a voice sang out clear and musical above the trees:
"Florence! Florence!"