The talk drifted back to the villa again. Mrs. Copley afforded their guest a more detailed description.
‘Nineteen bedrooms aside from the servants’ quarters, and room in the stable for thirty horses!’ she finished.
‘The princes of Vivalanti must have kept up an establishment in their pre-Riviera days.’
‘Mustn’t they?’ agreed Marcia cordially. The new villa was proving an unexpectedly soothing topic. ‘We’ll keep up an establishment too,’ she added. ‘We’re going to give a house-party when the Roystons come down from Paris, and—I know what we’ll do! We’ll give a ball for my birthday—won’t we, Uncle Howard? And have everybody out from Rome, and the ilex grove all lighted with coloured lamps!’
‘Not if I have anything to say about it,’ said Mr. Copley.
‘But you won’t have,’ said Marcia.
‘The only reason that I consented to take this villa was that I thought it was far enough away to escape parties for a time. You said——’
‘I said if you got nearer Rome we’d give a party every day, while as it is I’m only planning one party for all the three months.’
‘Sybert and I won’t come to it,’ he grumbled.
‘Perhaps you and Mr. Sybert won’t be invited.’