Presently Cecco brought up their meal, and Eleanor must needs eat and drink to soothe Lucy's anxiety. The girl watched her every movement, and Eleanor dared neither be tired nor dainty, lest for every mouthful she refused Manisty's chance should be the less.
After dinner she once more laid a detaining hand on her companion.
'Dear, I can't send him away, you know—at once—to please you.'
'Do you want him to stay?' said Lucy, holding herself aloof.
'After all, he is my kinsman. There are many things to discuss—much to hear.'
'Very well. It won't be necessary for me to take part.'
'Not unless you like. But, Lucy, it would make me very unhappy—if you were unkind to him. You have made him suffer, my dear; he is not the meekest of men. Be content.'
'I will be quite polite,' said the girl, turning away her head. 'You will be able to travel—won't you—very soon?'
Eleanor assented vaguely, and the conversation dropped.
In the afternoon Marie took a note to the cottage by the river.