"Georgey didn't say anything of you in her letter, Merthyr; I am going up to her, but I wished to satisfy myself that you were in town, first:—to save half-a-minute, you see I anticipate the philosophic manly sneer. Is it really true that you are going to mix yourself up in this mad Italian business again? Now that you're a man, my dear Merthyr, it seems almost inexcuseable—for a sensible Englishman!"
Lady Charlotte laughed, giving him her hand at the same time.
"Don't you know I swore an oath?" Merthyr caught up her tone.
"Yes, but you never succeed. I complain that you never succeed. Of what use on earth are all your efforts if you never succeed?"
Emilia's voice burst out:—
"'Piacemi almen che i miei sospir sien quali
Spera 'l Tevero e 'l Arno,
E 'l Po,—'"
Merthyr continued the ode, acting a similar fervour:—
"'Ben provvide Natura al nostro stato
Quando dell' Alpi schermo
Pose fra noi e la tedesca rabbis."
"We are merely bondsmen to the re-establishment of the provisions of nature."
"And we know we shall succeed!" said Emilia, permitting her antagonism to pass forth in irritable emphasis.