“Swift as lightning through my mind sped this question: What will be the effect of her letter to my father? Something that will separate me at once and forever from Saviola? I could not for a moment endure the thought.
“I looked at my lover, and my look said plainly as tongue could speak:
“‘I will meet you, and go with you to Italy.’
“And his eyes responded with equal clearness:
“‘I understand you, and I thank and bless you.’
“Soon after he took a formal leave of me, and raised Miss Murray’s hand to his lips and kissed it with devotional tenderness as he bowed.
“‘He is a very perfect gentleman, as indeed why should he not be? A man of his rank?’ said the half-appeased old maiden lady. ‘But all the same, my dear, he is young and unmarried, and a foreigner! And, what is worse still, he is a political refugee. Always suspicious characters, my dear! Always suspicious characters!’
“‘But Prince Saviola is well introduced, Miss Murray, and he is staying with the Middlemoors,’ I ventured to advance in my lover’s defense.
“‘Very true, my dear! But that does not prevent him from being a foreigner and a political refugee,’ persisted Miss Murray, in her most absolute manner.
“‘I cannot deny the fact,’ I admitted.