"To be sure. That is the badge of her persuasion."

"Last Sunday we didn't know whether to compassionate her or to be
angry with her. The Bradshaws are at Mrs. Gluck's. You know them by
name, I think I There again, an interesting study, in a very
different way. Twice in the day she shut herself up with them in
their rooms, and they held a dissident service. The hours she spent
here were passed in the solitude of her own room, lest she should
witness our profane enjoyment of the fine weather. Eleanor refrained
from touching the piano, and at meals kept the gravest countenance,
in mere kindness. I doubt whether that is right. It isn't as though
we were dealing with a woman whose mind is hopelessly--immatured;
she is only a girl still, and I know she has brains if she could be
induced to use them."

"Mrs. Baske has a remarkable face, it seems to me," said Mallard.

"It enrages me to talk of the matter."

They were now on the road which runs along the ridge of Posillipo;
at a point where it is parted only by a low wall from the westward
declivity, they paused and looked towards the setting sun.

"What a noise from Fuorigrotta!" murmured Spence, when he had leaned
for a moment on the wall. "It always amuses me. Only in this part of
the world could so small a place make such a clamour."

They were looking away from Naples. At the foot of the vine-covered
hillside lay the noisy village, or suburb, named from its position
at the outer end of the tunnel which the Romans pierced to make a