The touch of Scottish puritanism in his nature guarded him from the advances of married women; certain high born ladies of easy morals, charmed by his manner and striking face.
He learned quickly, too, the perils of such a tie: that in Rome an erring husband is frequently forgiven, but an unfaithful lover placed beyond the pale. There seemed to be a curious reverence shown to these love affairs, illegally cemented, whereas mere marriage was lightly shelved as an arrangement made by parents in the interests of property and to ensure a lawful heir.
Altogether, Rome was amusing and instructive, especially in his own favoured case. With a fine old title and certain wealth, young, handsome and popular, the new Marquis threw himself into the social whirl with a cool head, a guarded heart and the flair of an ardent explorer.
England, that island in the North, foggy and grey, inhabited by "Cadells," seemed a dream of another world as he lay on the sunny Italian sands.
And yet...
He stirred, drawing up his knees, his hands clasped round them, his eyes far away. For there stung through his complacency a sudden shaft of desire—that haunting love of home which grips a man unawares, with a sense of exile in a foreign land.
The mountains, where the marble lay in cool jagged quarries, vanished from his sight and in their place came a picture of London: her busy, grimy streets with the ceaseless throb of her beating heart, as the fight went on, obstinate, merciless, the struggle for success—for money and power...
And that other London: the crowded Park, Hurlingham, Ascot—he drew a deep breath!
And London by night with the cries of the newsboys—the block of taxis in the long line theatreward, the lights of that Circus where the Criterion leers at his gaily lit neighbour, the Pavilion.
A sudden nostalgia seized McTaggart. The shrill laughter of the merry bathing group, the cloudless glare of sea and sky grew wearisome. He rose quickly to his feet.