Presently Batiscombe returned alone to the drawing-room, his host remaining to give some orders about the luncheon. He looked curiously at Leonora as he sat down opposite to her.
"This is very charming," he said, smiling. "It is so kind of you."
"I had nothing to do with it," said Leonora, avoiding his glance. "But of course I am very glad. I was dreadfully afraid of being left alone with my sister-in-law, and of course you will help me to make it pleasant for her. Really, it is just like my husband,—he is so good."
"It would have been very miserable to have our good time cut short," said Julius reflectively, "and I suppose they would have thought it odd if I went on calling every day at the same hour." Leonora blushed very slightly.
"Yes," she said, "I suppose so. People have such ideas about the appearances. You know I should not mind in the least if it were only my husband; you might stay from morning till night, and we should all enjoy it. But I am so afraid of Madame de Charleroi,—she is so tremendously correct, you know."
From which piece of conversation it will be seen that Julius and Leonora had grown intimate of late, and regarded things from a practical point of view.
All this time Madame de Charleroi was in ignorance of the amiable arrangement concluded by her brother, and was looking forward with almost as much dislike as he had done to the family trio in which she was to play a part during the week.
She understood Leonora to a certain extent. She had at least a very strong presentiment that there would be trouble between her brother and his wife; not an open disagreement nor anything dramatic, but the sort of small worry and discord that begins slowly and surely, and finally embitters the whole lives of people who are not suited to each other. She had agreed to come down to Sorrento in order to "make friends" with Leonora, as her brother had expressed it, and in her wisdom and knowledge of the world she knew very well what a difficult task she had undertaken, and how small was her chance of success. She foresaw that she must be continually left alone with Leonora, for she understood her brother well enough to suppose he would adopt that method of fostering the friendship he desired. Poor dear Marcantonio had so very little tact! Consequently Diana wished very much that some other person had been asked to stay at the same time. Meanwhile she lay down for an hour upon a sofa in her sitting-room, and thought the matter over.
Marcantonio, however, bethought him that in spite of Diana's expressed willingness to meet Batiscombe, it might surprise her to find herself suddenly living under the same roof with him. He therefore determined to inform her of the fact before they all met at the midday breakfast. He supposed she was busy with her toilet, and so he would not go himself; he would send his wife. That was a good idea—it would be at once a chance of throwing the two together. To this end he returned to the drawing-room, where Leonora and Batiscombe were still talking, and with an apology to the latter, he drew his wife aside for a moment.
"I think, my angel," he whispered, "that it would be better to tell Diana that monsieur is here for a week. She is dressing at this moment. Would you be so amiable as to go to her and say in the course of the conversation that I have invited Monsieur Batiscombe? It would be very good of you, my dear."