Ronald laughed, and was rewarded by a scowl from the Marchese, and then Carmela, tired of keeping peace between these hot-headed young men, went off to talk to Mrs. Pellypop. Without doubt, there would have been high words between the rivals had not a steward come up to Ronald with a message that the captain wanted to see him. So Ronald retreated, leaving Vassalla in possession of the field, and the Marchese, seeing there was no chance of talking to Carmela, went off to solace himself with a cigarette.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Pellypop received Carmela with an affectation of friendliness, and proceeded to question her in a Machiavellian manner.
"What a pretty place Valletta is," said the matron, dropping her knitting and rubbing her plump white lands; "I suppose you know it very well?"
"I ought to," answered the girl laughing; "I've lived there nearly all my life."
"Yet you speak English well," said Mrs. Pellypop sceptically.
"Yes, there are so many English people in Malta; and, besides, my mother was English."
"Oh," thought Mrs. Pellypop, noticing the use of the past tense, "her mother is dead." "So you are going home to your mother's people I suppose?" she asked aloud.
"Just on a visit," replied Carmela carelessly.
"Indeed, they live in London I presume?"
"No, at Marlow on the Thames."