“Poor darling!” said Ethel again.

“And now do you know, Ethel dear, I’m beginning to feel as though I should really like to run away from this place, if I thought that horrid man wouldn’t see me?”

“Minnie darling,” said Ethel, “that’s the very thing I came for, you know.”

“Oh yes, I know!  And that dear, nice, good, kind, delightful priest!  Oh, it was so nice of you to think of a priest, Ethel dear!  I’m so grateful!  But when is he coming?”

“Soon, I hope.  But do try not to talk so.”

“But I’m only whispering.”

“Yes, but your whispers are too loud, and I’m afraid they’ll hear.”

“Well, I’ll try to keep still; but it’s so awfully hard, you know, when one has so much to say, Ethel dear.”

Minnie now remained silent for about five minutes.

“How did you say you were going to take me away?” she asked at length.

“In disguise,” said Ethel.

“But what disguise?”

“In an old woman’s dress—­but hu-s-s-s-sh!”

“But I don’t want to be dressed up in an old woman’s clothes; they make me such a figure.  Why, I’d be a perfect fright.”

“Hu-s-s-s-sh!  Dear, dear Minnie, you’re talking too loud.  They’ll certainly hear us,” aid Ethel, in a low, frightened whisper.

“But do—­do promise you won’t take me in an old woman’s clothes!”

“Oh, there—­there it is again!” said Ethel.  “Dear, dear Minnie, there’s some one listening.”

“Well, I don’t see what harm there is in what I’m saying.  I only wanted—­”

Here there was a movement on the stairs just outside.  Ethel had heard a sound of that kind two or three times, and it had given her alarm; but now Minnie herself heard it, and stopped speaking.

And now a voice sounded from the stairs.  Some Italian words were spoken, and seemed to be addressed to them.  Of course they could make no reply.  The words were repeated, with others, and the speaker seemed to be impatient.  Suddenly it flashed across Ethel’s mind that the speaker was Girasole, and that the words were addressed to her.

Her impression was correct, and the speaker was Girasole.  He had heard the sibilant sounds of the whispering, and, knowing that Minnie could not speak Italian, it had struck him as being a very singular thing that she should be whispering.  Had her sister joined her?  He thought he would go up and see.  So he went up softly, and the whispering still went on.  He therefore concluded that the “Italian woman” was not doing her duty, and that Mrs. Willoughby had joined her sister.  This he would not allow; but as he had already been sufficiently harsh he did not wish to be more so, and therefore he called to the “Italian woman.”

“Hallo, you woman there! didn’t I tell you not to let the ladies speak to one another?”

Of course no answer was given, so Girasole grew more angry still, and cried out again, more imperatively: