attention, and effectually called her away by saying, "If you care to
come with me to the Schiavoni, I can better explain to you what I mean."

Rhoda kindled and flushed and looked suddenly pretty. Peter heard a
smothered sigh on his left.

"I don't like it," Mrs. Johnson murmured to him. "No, I don't. If it was
you, now, as offered to take her--But there, I daresay you wouldn't be
clever enough to suit Rhoder; she's so partic'lar. You and me, now--we
get on very well; seems as if we liked to talk on the same subjects, as
it were; but Rhoder's different. When we go about together, it's always,
'Mother, not so loud! Oh, mother, you mustn't! Mother, that ain't really
beautiful at all, and you're givin' of us away. Mother, folks are
listening.' Let 'em listen is what I say. They won't hear anything that
could hurt 'em from me. But Rhoder's so quiet; she hates a bit of notice.
Not that she minds when she's with _him_; he talks away at the top of his
voice, and folks do turn an' listen--I've seen 'em. But I suppose that's
clever talk, so Rhoder don't mind."

She raised her voice from the thick and cautious whisper which she
thought suitable for these remarks, and addressed Peggy.

"Well, we've had a good dinner, my dear--plenty of it, if the rice _was_
a bit underdone."

"A grain," Miss Gould was murmuring to the curate, "a single grain would
have had unspeakable effects...."

Peggy was endeavouring to comb Caterina's exceedingly tangled locks with
the fingers of one hand, while with the other she slapped Silvio's