She delivered this outburst from the threshold, and as she advanced into the room she was slightly disconcerted to see Laurence Sybert lazily pulling himself from a chair to greet her—if she ever showed in a particularly bad light, Sybert was sure to be at hand. He bowed, his face politely grave, but there was the provoking suggestion of a smile not far below the surface; and as she looked at him Marcia had the uncomfortable feeling that her own face was growing red.
‘I’m sorry about Angelo, my dear,’ said Mrs. Copley. ‘I didn’t know that you wanted to ride this afternoon. But here is Mr. Sybert who has come out to see your uncle, and your uncle won’t be back till evening. I’m sure he will be glad to go with you.’
Marcia glanced back at her aunt with an expression which said, ‘Oh, Aunt Katherine, wait till I get you alone!’
‘Certainly, Miss Marcia, I should be delighted to fill the recreant Angelo’s place,’ he affirmed, but in a tone which to her ear did not express any undue eagerness.
‘Thank you, Mr. Sybert,’ she smiled sweetly; ‘you are very kind, but I shouldn’t think of troubling you. I know that Aunt Katherine would like to have you go with her to call on the contessa.’
‘If you will permit it. Miss Marcia, I will ride with you instead; for though I should be happy to call on Contessa Torrenieri with Mrs. Copley, I have just driven out from Tivoli, and by way of change I should prefer not driving back.’
‘It’s awfully kind of you to offer, but I don’t really want to ride. I was just cross with Angelo for going off without saying anything.’
‘Marcia,’ remonstrated Mrs. Copley, ‘that doesn’t sound polite.’
Sybert laughed. ‘There is nothing, Miss Marcia,’ he declared, ‘that would give me more pleasure this afternoon than a gallop with you; and with your permission——’ he touched the bell.
Marcia shrugged her shoulders and gave the order as Pietro appeared.