“You left their party and joined ours rather abruptly at Pompeii,” I said.

“Had to!”

“Isabel didn’t know you had to.  If she tried to find out, I fancy she was told little girls shouldn’t ask questions.  It was Lot’s wife who really came between you, but Isabel wouldn’t have been jealous of Lot’s wife.”

“I suppose not,” said Dicky doubtfully.

“Do you remember meeting the Misses Bingham in the Ufizzi? and telling them you were going to be——­”

“That’s so.”

“You didn’t give them enough details.  And they told me they were going to Vallombrosa.  And when Miss Cora said good-bye to me she told me you were a dear or something.”

“Why didn’t you say I wasn’t?”

“Dicky, if you are going to assume that it was my fault——­”

“Only one decent hotel—­hardly anybody in it—­foregathered with old lady Portheris—­told every mortal thing they knew!  Oh,” groaned Dicky.  “Why was an old maid ever born!”

“She never was,” I couldn’t help saying, but I might as well not have said it.  Dicky was rapidly formulating his plan of action.

“I’ll tell her straight out, after dinner,” he concluded, “and her mother, too, if I get a chance.”

“Do you know what will happen?” I asked.

“You never know what will happen,” replied Dicky, blushing.

“Mrs. and Miss Portheris and Mr. Mafferton will leave the Hotel Colomba for parts unknown, by the earliest train to-morrow morning.”

“But Mrs. Portheris declares that we’re to be a happy family for the rest of the trip.”

“Under the impression that you are disposed of, an impression that might be allowed to——­”

“My heart,” said Dicky impulsively, “may be otherwise engaged, but my alleged mind is yours for ever.  Mamie, you have a great head.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I would certainly tell the truth to Isabel, as a secret, but——­”

“Mamie, we cut our teeth on the same——­”

“Horrid of you to refer to it.”

“It’s such a tremendous favour!”

“It is.”

“But since you’re in it, you know, already—­and it’s so very temporary—­and I’ll be as good as gold——­”

“You’d better!” I exclaimed.  And so it was settled that the fiction of Dicky’s and my engagement should be permitted to continue to any extent that seemed necessary until Mr. Dod should be able to persuade Miss Portheris to fly with him across the Channel and be married at a Dover registry office.  We arranged everything with great precision, and, if necessary, I was to fly too, to make it a little more proper.  We were both somewhat doubtful about the necessity of a bridesmaid in a registry office, but we agreed that such a thing would go a long way towards persuading Isabel to enter it.

When we arrived at the hotel we found Mrs. Portheris and Mr. Mafferton affectionately having tea with my parents.  Isabel had gone to bed with a headache, but Dicky, notwithstanding, displayed the most unfeeling spirits.  He drove us all finally to see the tomb of Juliet in the Vicolo Franceschini, and it was before that uninspiring stone trough full of visiting cards, behind a bowling green of suburban patronage, that I heard him, on general grounds of expediency, make contrite advances to Mrs. Portheris.