thirty acres--just the garden, all downhill, and some fields."

Miss Lavish was not disgusted, and said it was just the size of
her aunt's Suffolk estate. Italy receded. They tried to remember
the last name of Lady Louisa some one, who had taken a house near
Summer Street the other year, but she had not liked it, which was
odd of her. And just as Miss Lavish had got the name, she broke
off and exclaimed:

"Bless us! Bless us and save us! We've lost the way."

Certainly they had seemed a long time in reaching Santa Croce,
the tower of which had been plainly visible from the landing
window. But Miss Lavish had said so much about knowing her
Florence by heart, that Lucy had followed her with no misgivings.

"Lost! lost! My dear Miss Lucy, during our political diatribes we
have taken a wrong turning. How those horrid Conservatives would
jeer at us! What are we to do? Two lone females in an unknown
town. Now, this is what I call an adventure."

Lucy, who wanted to see Santa Croce, suggested, as a possible
solution, that they should ask the way there.

"Oh, but that is the word of a craven! And no, you are not, not,
NOT to look at your Baedeker. Give it to me; I shan't let you
carry it. We will simply drift."

Accordingly they drifted through a series of those grey-brown
streets, neither commodious nor picturesque, in which the eastern