"Is it not so?" he asked a little anxiously.
"Jack is much nicer than my brothers," said the young girl.
"And who is he, this Jack?"
"He's a dear boy," said Goneril, "and very clever; he is going home for the Indian Civil Service Exam; he has been out to Calcutta to see my father."
The signorino did not pay any attention to the latter part of this description, but he appeared to find the beginning very satisfactory.
"So he is only a boy," he muttered to himself, and went away comparatively satisfied.
Goneril spent most of the day watching the road from Florence. She might not walk on the highway, but a steep short-cut that joined the main road at the bottom of the hill was quite at her disposal She walked up and down for more than an hour. At last she saw some one on the Florence road. She walked on quickly. It was the telegraph-boy.
She tore open the envelope and read: "Venice.—Exam. on Wednesday. Start at once. A rivederci."
It was with very red eyes that Goneril went in to dinner.
"So the cousin hasn't come," said Miss Prunty kindly.