Marco Pagliadini.
‘I do not think I remember the name; but he may be a friend of father’s, from Italy. I must not send him away,’ said Roma to herself. Then aloud she added: ‘Show the gentleman here, Anne, and let me know when your master is awake.’
A few minutes later, a grave, handsome young Italian was shown in, who bowed low to Roma with a stately grace, which had nothing servile in its reverence; and relieved her at once from the suspicion that the stranger might be some foreign beggar who had come to sponge upon her father. This man was evidently of gentle birth and breeding; and the girl felt at once at her ease with him.
In her mother’s tongue, which was as familiar to her as the English she generally spoke, she greeted him, with the grave and formal courtesy which sat more naturally upon her than the freedom of manner permitted in this country. Roma had spent most of her life in Italy, and felt herself more at home with her mother’s countrymen than with her father’s.
She bid Signor Pagliadini be seated, and explained to him that her father had been ill, and was still very feeble; that he was now resting, and she feared to disturb him; but at the same time he must not be deprived of the pleasure of a visit like the present, and if the Signor would be so kind as to wait for half an hour, her father would be delighted to see him.
The Signor would be delighted to do so, and expressed himself concerned to hear of the illness of Mr. Meredith. In a short time the two in the studio were talking easily and pleasantly together.
‘Did you know my father in Italy?’ Roma asked at length. ‘I am not sure, but I fancy I have seen your face somewhere.’
‘We may possibly have met, Signorina,’ answered the Italian. ‘For I, too, have been much in Rome; but I had not the honour of personal acquaintance with your father then. I bring with me an introduction from Signor Mattei in Florence. When he heard that I proposed to visit England, he insisted that I should make myself known to the Signor Meredith, who, he tells me, has been settled here for some time.’
‘Yes, we have been four years in England,’ answered Roma, with a smile and a sigh; ‘but I think I like Italy best.’
‘I can understand that well,’ he answered, looking out into space with his bright, handsome eyes. ‘There is no country like our Italy.’