Margaret did not appear at the breakfast table; but her absence was not commented on, for it was understood by all that the Villa Capri was Liberty Hall, and that each guest was fit to come and go as he or she pleased. So they made up for her absence by talking of her as they had talked the preceding night.
They were all curious, highly curious, to know something about her; but the signora, when appealed to, smiled her serene smile and shook her head.
"I can't tell you anything about her," she said; "I have never asked her for her confidence. She is a lady, and that is sufficient for me."
And they remained silent, for they could scarcely be so rude as to suggest that what sufficed for the signora did not satisfy them!
The guests dispersed after breakfast, the ladies to their boudoirs and the music-room, the gentlemen to the armory for their guns, for a shooting expedition had been planned.
The prince, as in duty bound, went with it, though he would far rather have remained at home in his study to think of Margaret.
They returned in time to dress for dinner, and the prince, who seemed tired, went straight to his sister's room.
"Oh, is it you, Ferdy?" she said; "you have just come in time to coil up this plait for me. My maid has run off to Miss Leslie's room; she is always so anxious to desert me for her. They are all alike—the servants, I mean; I think they worship her!" and she laughed with a poor imitation of a pout.
The prince gathered up a plait of the shining hair, and kissed it with brotherly affection as he attempted to arrange it.
"They all love her, do they?" he said; "and you, too, Florrie, eh?"