"Oh! I told her you had so much to do, that Melina Villas was too far away. But, O, dearest Ralph, I really think dear old Diego must have called there while we were in Normandy. Mrs. Kershaw was out, unfortunately, but the servant described a 'tall, black-looking gentleman, who had very little English.' He asked first for Mrs. Kershaw, and then for me. Now, no one could ask for me but Diego."
"And, my darling, what is Diego like? is he a gentleman?" asked Wilton, rather doubtfully.
"Yes, certainly, a gentleman; but not like you. He wears a velvet coat—it is charming when it is new; but he has not always money, then it gets shabby; I have seen it broken at the elbows; and he has a felt hat, oh! such a beautiful hat at first—but—I fear he sleeps in it sometimes, for it gets much bent. But, when Diego has his purse full, and new clothes, he is lovely! I have sketched him when they were new, and mended them when they were old. He is handsome, like a Salvator-Rosa brigand. You would think he could kill; and he is really as gentle and simple as a child. You are much more fierce yourself, Ralph"—looking up lovingly into his eyes, with very little fear in her own. "How I should like to see him again!" she continued; "if we meet, you must ask him to dinner."
Wilton laughed heartily.
"If we do meet, I shall; but he will be a curious guest. Let us have our distinguished cousin, St. George, to meet him."
"Would it annoy you, Ralph, to have poor Diego to dinner?"
"No, love; but don't ask him to live with us, I could not stand that."
"Nor I," said Ella, quietly.