"Very civil of the Embassy to send us a card for the reception to-morrow night, Stella; I am glad we wrote names when we arrived. Your Aunt Caroline bids you accept, as her spectacles are upstairs."
Miss Rawson did as she was bid, and her uncle waited, fidgeting with his feet. He wished the stranger to put down the Times, which he wanted himself—or, at all events, remove his long legs and hidden body from such a near proximity to his niece; they could not say a word that he could not overhear, Canon Ebley mused.
However, the unknown remained where he was, and turned a page of the paper with great deliberation.
"Your aunt will be ready to go out again now," the Uncle Erasmus announced, as Stella placed her acceptance in the envelope. "You had better go up and put your hat on, my dear."
The Times rustled slightly—and Stella replied a little hurriedly: "I was just finishing a letter, uncle, then I will come."
"Very well," said Canon Ebley, not altogether pleased, as he walked away with the note.
The newspaper was lowered a few inches again, and the wise blue eyes beneath the saintly parted hair twinkled with irresistible laughter, and the deep voice said:
"He would greatly disapprove of our having conversed—the uncle—is it not so? How long are you going to stay in Rome?"
Stella smiled, too—she could not help it.
"A week—ten days, perhaps," she answered, and then rapidly addressed an envelope to the Rev. Eustace Medlicott.