I am going home to Buda this week."
"Must you go?" he asked, looking earnestly into the lovely eyes,
lovelier than ever in their present sorrowful languor.
"I think so," she answered, "I may wait to see Angela's great
picture, but--"
"Do not hurry your departure," said Aubrey, speaking in a softer
tone--"Tell me--may I come and see you this evening,--just for a few
moments?"
His eyes rested on her tenderly, and at the passion of his glance
her own fell.
"If you like--yes," she murmured. And just then the Princesse
D'Agramont approached.
"May I drive you home, Mr. Leigh?" she asked.
"Thank you!" And Aubrey smiled as he accepted the invitation.
And presently the carriages started, Sylvie's light victoria
leading, and the Princesse D'Agramont's landeau following. Half way
back to Rome a picturesque little beggar, whose motley-coloured rags
scarcely clothed his smooth brown limbs, suddenly sprang out of a
corner where he had been in hiding with a great basket of violets,
and threw the whole fragrant heap dexterously into Sylvie's
carriage, crying out,
"Bellissima Signora! Bellissima! Bellissima! Un soldo! Un soldo!"
Laughingly Sylvie threw out four or five francs, but Aubrey, carried
beyond all prudence by catching a glimpse of Sylvie's pretty head
gleaming above the great purple cluster of violets she had caught
and held, tossed a twenty-franc piece to the clever little rascal
who had by "suiting the action to the word, and the word to the
action" as Italians so often do, gained a week's earnings in one
successful morning.
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