with him, but would not detain him a moment.

The Marchese, the man said, was not up yet. He, the servant, had
been to his door at the usual hour, but had received no answer to
his knock; so that it was evident that his master was still
sleeping. He had been very late the night before,--far later than
was usual with him,--and no doubt he would ring his bell as soon as
he waked.

"The fact is," said Signor Ercole, as he and Quinto Lalli turned
away from the door, "that the Marchese has not been well of late. He
very often does me the honour of conversing with me,--I may say
indeed of consulting me on subjects of art;--and I grieve to say
that I have of late observed a change in him. He is not like the
same man."

"Getting old, I suppose, like the rest of us," said Quinto.

"Like some of us," corrected Signor Ercole; "but, Lord bless you!
the Marchese is a young man--a young man, so to speak,--he's not
above fifty, and a very young man of his years; at least he was so a
month or two ago. But changed he is. Everybody has seen it. Let us
hope that it is merely some temporary indisposition. Ravenna can't
afford to lose the Marchese."

"I suppose we had better put off settling our little bit of business
till another time?" said Quinto. "Shall we say to-morrow, at the
same hour? And I will get that paper from the Marchese in the
meantime," returned Signor Ercole.