Podb. UPPERSOLE?  No—­he’s over at Cadenabbia, I believe.

Mr. C.S. A highly agreeable spot to stay at.  Indeed, I’ve some idea myself of—­Exceedingly pleasant person his Lordship—­so affable, so completely the gentleman!

Podb. Oh, he’s affable enough—­for a boot-maker.  I always give him a title when I see him, for the joke of the thing—­he likes it.

Mr. C.S. He may, Sir.  I consider a title is not a thing to be treated in that light manner.  It—­it was an unpardonable liberty to force me into the society of that class of person—­unpardonable, Sir!

    [He goes.

Podb. Didn’t take much forcing, after he once heard me call him “Lord UPPERSOLE”!  Where are all the others, eh?  Thought we were going up to the Villa Serbelloni this afternoon.

Culch. I—­er—­have not been consulted.  Are they—­er—­all going?

    [With a shade of anxiety.

Podb. I believe so.  You needn’t be afraid, you know.  HYPATIA won’t have the chance of ragging you now—­she and Miss TROTTER have had a bit of a breeze.

Culch. I rather gathered as much.  I think I could guess the—­

Podb. Yes, HYPATIA’s rather uneasy about poor old BOB; thinks Miss TROTTER is—­well, carrying on, you know.  She is no end of a little flirt—­you know that well enough!—­(C. disclaims impatiently.) Here you all are, eh?—­(To Miss P., Miss T., and BOB.)—­Well, who knows the way up to the villa?

Miss T. It’s through the town, and up some steps by the church—­you cann’t miss it.  But Mr. PRENDERGAST is going to show me a short cut up behind the hotel—­aren’t you, Mr. PRENDERGAST?

Miss P. (icily).  I really think, dear, it would be better if we all kept together—­for so many reasons!

Culch. (with alacrity).  I agree with Miss PRENDERGAST. A short cut is invariably the most indirect route.

Miss P. (with intention).  You hear what Mr. CULCHARD says, my dear MAUD?  He advocates direct ways, as best in the long run.

Miss T. It’s only going to be a short run, my love.  But I’m vurry glad to observe that you and Mr. CULCHARD are so perfectly harmonious, as I’m leaving him on your hands for a spell.  Aren’t you ever coming, Mr. PRENDERGAST?

    [She leads him off, a not unwilling captive.

A PATH IN THE GROUNDS OF THE VILLA SERBELLONI.

Podb. (considerately, to CULCHARD, who is following Miss PRENDERGAST and him, in acute misery).  Look here, old fellow, Miss PRENDERGAST would like to sit down, I know; so don’t you bother about keeping with us if you’d rather not, you know!

    [CULCHARD murmurs an inarticulate protest.

Miss P. Surely, Mr. PODBURY, you are aware by this time that Mr. CULCHARD has a perfect mania for self-sacrifice!