He carefully placed the card in his pocket-book.

“Thank you,” said he.  “It’s a fine morning, Count.”

“Charming, Mr. Merrick.”

Uncle John walked away.  He was glad that he had not suspected the young man unjustly.  When an imposture is unmasked it is no longer dangerous.

He joined his nieces, who were all busily engaged in writing letters home, and remarked, casually: 

“You’ve been deceived in your Italian friend, Louise.  He is neither a count nor of noble family, although I suppose when you met him in New York he had an object in posing as a titled aristocrat.”

The girl paused, examining the point of her pen thoughtfully.

“Are you sure, Uncle John?”

“Quite sure, my dear.  I’ve just been through the list of Italian counts, and his name is not there.  Floriano, the proprietor, who knows every aristocrat in Italy, has never before heard of him.”

“How singular!” exclaimed Louise.  “I wonder why he has tried to deceive us.”

“Oh, the world is full of impostors; but when you are on to their game they are quite harmless.  Of course we won’t encourage this young man in any way.  It will be better to avoid him.”

“He—­he seems very nice and gentlemanly,” said Louise with hesitation.

The other girls exchanged glances, but made no remark.  Uncle John hardly knew what to say further.  He felt he was in an awkward position, for Louise was the most experienced in worldly ways of his three nieces and he had no desire to pose as a stern guardian or to deprive his girls of any passing pleasure they might enjoy.  Moreover, Louise being in love with that young Weldon her mother so strongly objected to, she would not be likely to care much for this Italian fellow, and Mrs. Merrick had enjoined him to keep her daughter’s mind from dwelling on her “entanglement.”

“Oh, well, my dear,” he said to her, “you must act as you see fit.  I do not imagine we shall see much of this young man, in any event, and now that you are well aware of the fact that he is sailing under false colors, you will know how to handle him better than I can advise you.”

“I shall be very careful,” said Louise slowly, as she resumed her writing.

“Well then, girls, what do you say to a stroll around the village?” asked their uncle.  “I’m told it’s a proper place to buy silk stockings and inlaid wood-work.  They come assorted, I suppose.”

Beth and Patsy jumped up with alacrity, but Louise pleaded that she had several more letters to write; so the others left her and passed the rest of the forenoon in rummaging among the quaint shops of Sorrento, staring at the statue of Tasso, and enjoying the street scenes so vividly opposed to those of America.  It was almost their first glimpse of foreign manners and customs.  In Naples they had as yet seen nothing but darkness and falling ashes.

CHAPTER X