on. He is treating us as if we were a party of Cook's tourists."

"Surely no!" said Miss Lavish, her ardour visibly decreasing.

The other carriage had drawn up behind, and sensible Mr. Beebe
called out that after this warning the couple would be sure to
behave themselves properly.

"Leave them alone," Mr. Emerson begged the chaplain, of whom he
stood in no awe. "Do we find happiness so often that we should
turn it off the box when it happens to sit there? To be driven by
lovers-- A king might envy us, and if we part them it's more
like sacrilege than anything I know."

Here the voice of Miss Bartlett was heard saying that a crowd
had begun to collect.

Mr. Eager, who suffered from an over-fluent tongue rather than a
resolute will, was determined to make himself heard. He addressed
the driver again. Italian in the mouth of Italians is a
deep-voiced stream, with unexpected cataracts and boulders to
preserve it from monotony. In Mr. Eager's mouth it resembled
nothing so much as an acid whistling fountain which played ever
higher and higher, and quicker and quicker, and more and more
shrilly, till abruptly it was turned off with a click.

"Signorina!" said the man to Lucy, when the display had ceased.
Why should he appeal to Lucy?

"Signorina!" echoed Persephone in her glorious contralto. She