the leafy shades of Upcote in Oxfordshire, he had pondered these things
during his lonely years of youth and adolescence--had pondered, and in
some cases already decided them UPON THE MERITS. This was remarkably so
in the matter of Betty Coy, as he will tell you for himself before long.
Meantime, lest I keep Dr. Lanfranchi too long upon the threshold of his
own house, all I shall add to my picture of his pupil now is that he was
the eldest son and third child of Squire Antony Strelley of Upcote, a
Catholic, non-juring, recusant, stout old gentleman of Oxfordshire, and
of Dame Mary, born Arundell, his wife; and that he was come to study the
moral and civil law at this famous University of Padua, like many an
Englishman of his condition before him. He was twenty-one years of age,
had as much money as was good for him and much more poetry than enough
in his valise--to say nothing of the germ of those notes from which he
afterwards (long afterwards) compiled the ensuing memoirs.

Dr. Lanfranchi had not said "Accidente!" more than twice, nor kicked his
door more than half a dozen times, before it was opened by a young and
pretty lady, who held a lamp above her head. She was, apparently, a very
young and very pretty, rather little, lady, and was dressed with some
care--but not more than her person deserved--in black and white. Her
dark hair, which was high upon her head, was crowned with a large
tortoiseshell comb. She held the lamp, as I say, above her as she
curtseyed, smiling, in the way. "Be very welcome, sir," she said, "and
be pleased to enter our house." It was charming to see how deftly she
dipped without spilling the lamp-oil, charming to see her little white
teeth as she smiled, her lustrous eyes shining in the light like large
stars. It was charming to see her there at all, for she was charming
altogether--in figure, in face and poise, in expression, which was that
of a graceful child playing housewife; lastly, in the benevolence,
curiosity and discretion which sat enthroned upon her smooth brow, like