'Oh, but you will think so,'—he said, obstinately—'only you must stay long enough in the country. What people are pleased to call Papal tyranny puts a few people in prison—and tells them what books to read. Well!—what matter? Who knows what books they ought to read?'
'But all their long struggle!—and their heroes! They had to make themselves a nation—'
The words stumbled on the girl's tongue, but her effort, the hot feeling in her young face became her.—Miss Manisty thought to herself, 'Oh, we shall dress, and improve her—We shall see!'—
'One has first to settle whether it was worth while. What does a new nation matter? Theirs, anyway, was made too quick,' said Manisty, rising in answer to his aunt's signal.
'But liberty matters!' said the girl. She stood an instant with her hand on the back of her chair, unconsciously defiant.
'Ah! Liberty!' said Manisty—'Liberty!' He lifted his shoulders contemptuously.
Then backing to the wall, he made room for her to pass. The girl felt almost as though she had been struck. She moved hurriedly, appealingly towards Miss Manisty, who took her arm kindly as they left the room.
'Don't let my nephew frighten you, my dear'—she said—'He never thinks like anybody else.'
'I read so much at Florence—and on the journey'—said Lucy, while her hand trembled in Miss Manisty's—'Mrs. Browning—Mazzini—many things. I could not put that time out of my head!'