The old fellow's voice was strangely balanced between pathos and a
peculiar self-abnegating humour.

"If we were both to take our hats off again, I think it would be easy to
see why you should sit in front!" said Christian with a laugh, which
although quite genial, somehow closed the discussion.

"Ah!" replied the old gentleman with outspread hands. "There you have
worsted me. After that I am silent, and--I obey!"

He climbed into the cart with a little senile joke about the stiffness
of his aged limbs. He chattered on in his innocent, childish way until
the village was reached. Here he was deposited on the dusty road at the
gate of a small yellow cottage where he had two rooms. The seat was
re-arranged, and amidst a volley of thanks and salutations, Hilda and
Christian drove away. Presently Hilda looked up and said:

"Is he not a dear old thing? I believe, Christian, in all the various
local information I have given you, I have never told you about Signor
Bruno. I shall reserve him for the next awkward pause that occurs."

"Yes," replied Christian quietly. "He seems very nice."

Something in his tone seemed to catch her attention. She half turned as
if to hear more, but he said nothing. Then she raised her eyes to his
face, which was not expressive of anything in particular.

"Christian," she said gravely, "you do not like him?"

Looked upon as a mere divination of thought, this was very quick; but he