"No, indeed it is too late," Artois said.

Without being aware of it he spoke with an authority that was almost
stern.

"We must be off to our fishing," he added. "Good-night. Good-night,
Vere."

"Good-night, Signora."

The Marchesino bowed, with his hat in his hand. He kissed Hermione's
hand again, but he did not try to take Vere's.

"Good-night," Hermione said.

A glance at Artois had told her much that he was thinking.

"Good-night, Monsieur Emile," said Vere. "Good-night, Marchese. Buona
pesca!"

She turned and followed her mother into the house.

"Che simpatica!"

It was the Marchesino's voice, breathing the words through a sigh:
"Che simpatica Signorina!" Then an idea seemed to occur to him, and he
looked at his friend reproachfully. "And you knew the girl with the
perfect little nose, Emilio--all the time you knew her!"