He would be furiously helpless and miserable under the infliction.—Somehow, her spirits rose.—
She went to the door of the salon, and heard the carriage drive up that was to take them to Nemi. Across Manisty's room, she saw himself on the balcony lounging and smoking till the ladies should appear. The blue lake with its green shores sparkled beyond him. The day was brightening. Certainly—let the bad news wait!
* * * * *
As they drove along the Galleria di Sotto, Manisty seemed to be preoccupied. The carriage had interrupted him in the midst of reading a long letter which he still held crumpled in his hand.
At last he said abruptly to Eleanor—'Benecke's last chance is up. He is summoned to submit next week at latest.'
'He tells you so?'
'Yes. He writes me a heart-broken letter.'
'Poor, poor fellow! It's all the Jesuits' doing. Mr. Neal told me the whole story.'
'Oh! it's tyranny of course. And the book's only a fraction of the truth,—a little Darwinian yeast leavening a lump of theology. But they're quite right. They can't help it.'
Eleanor looked at Lucy Foster and laughed.