bullocks came out of an archway. Indeed, if it had not been for
the good advice of an old man who was selling button-hooks, the
road might never have got clear.

Over such trivialities as these many a valuable hour may slip
away, and the traveller who has gone to Italy to study the
tactile values of Giotto, or the corruption of the Papacy, may
return remembering nothing but the blue sky and the men and women
who live under it. So it was as well that Miss Bartlett should
tap and come in, and having commented on Lucy's leaving the door
unlocked, and on her leaning out of the window before she was
fully dressed, should urge her to hasten herself, or the best of
the day would be gone. By the time Lucy was ready her cousin had
done her breakfast, and was listening to the clever lady among
the crumbs.

A conversation then ensued, on not unfamiliar lines. Miss
Bartlett was, after all, a wee bit tired, and thought they had
better spend the morning settling in; unless Lucy would at all
like to go out? Lucy would rather like to go out, as it was her
first day in Florence, but, of course, she could go alone. Miss
Bartlett could not allow this. Of course she would accompany Lucy
everywhere. Oh, certainly not; Lucy would stop with her cousin.
Oh, no! that would never do. Oh, yes!

At this point the clever lady broke in.

"If it is Mrs. Grundy who is troubling you, I do assure you that
you can neglect the good person. Being English, Miss Honeychurch
will be perfectly safe. Italians understand. A dear friend of