After a while Bianca, her little maid, entered, and with painstaking effort repeated in English a short message that she had evidently just learnt. "Master wishes come pay his respects to signorina."
Evarne renounced day-dreams and meditations and arose immediately. Blissfully independent of hair-curlers or any other such artificial accessories, her toilette could be completed with marvellous rapidity. Now, in considerably less than half an hour, she issued from her room fresh and blooming as a spring flower, and all unconsciously greeted Morris with the richest smile she had ever flashed upon him.
He looked bright and debonnairé that morning, and it was difficult to realise that he was in fact the contemporary of the girl's father. He seemed so glad to behold her again after the few hours' separation, asked with such evident interest and concern if she had slept well, held her hand for so long and finished by pressing it so warmly between his own, that Evarne blushed slightly for very happiness, as with unerring instinct her heart answered its own question, "He does care—he does—he does!"
In her previous notions concerning both men and women who had attained to the mature and dignified age of five-and-forty, she had unconsciously taken it for granted that Cupid always observed a due respect for such elderly hearts. True, she was well-informed respecting poor Hera's troubles. Zeus had surely been old—quite old and grey-bearded—yet apparently he could not ever look down from high Olympus, even on business, without his eye falling on some fair damsel who promptly became entitled to a place amid the crowd of rival fair ones who packed that miraculously capacious heart. Nevertheless, despite this seemingly instructive knowledge, it was only as she grew to know Morris that her ideas became revolutionised on the subject of middle-aged men who were not divinities, but merely modern and mortal. Now, her guardian's years, viewed with the eyes of affection, appeared simply as an additional fascination.
After a while he proceeded to consult her regarding their plans for the day. Would she like to go sight-seeing that morning, or rest after the fatigues of yesterday's journey?
Evarne was still amused at this novel notion, evidently entertained by Morris, that she was a fragile blossom requiring to be carefully tended and cherished. The idea flashed across her: "How different life will be in a year or two when I am all alone in cheap little rooms in London, earning a precarious living by Art."
This led her to recall what her guardian had told her last night concerning the two most celebrated Art masters in Naples.
"They are very different one from another, both in their style of work and their method of teaching," he had said. "I will take you to visit both studios, and you can see if one appeals to you more than the other."
Now she reminded him of this promise.
"I want to oversee the unpacking of my boxes," she said, "and then, if you please, I should like to visit the studios you spoke of. I want to start working in all seriousness almost at once."