Bessie would not allow that the English are maussade, but madame refused to believe herself mistaken.

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Musgrave still carry their gayety of heart wherever they go.  They are not fashionable people, but people like to know them.  They have adopted Italy for their country, and are most at home in Florence, but they do not find their other home in England too far off for frequent visits.

They are still only two, and move about often and easily, and see more than most travellers do, for they charter queer private conveyances for themselves, and leave the beaten ways for devious paths that look attractive and often turn out great successes.  It was during one of these excursions—­an excursion into the Brianza—­that they not long ago fell in with a large party of old friends from England, come together fortuitously at Bellagio.  Descending early in the evening from the luxuriant hills across which they had been driving through a long green June day, they halted at the hospitable open gate of the Villa Giulia.  There was a pony-carriage at the door, and another carriage just moving off after the discharge of its freight.

“Oh, Aunt Olympia, look here!  Mr. Harry Musgrave and Elizabeth!” cried a happy voice, and there, behold! were my Lady Latimer and Dora—­Lady Lucas now—­and Sir Edward; and turning back to see and asking, “Who? who?” came Mr. Oliver Smith and his sisters, and Mr. Cecil Burleigh and his dear Julia.

To Bessie it was a delightful encounter, and Harry Musgrave, if his enthusiasm was not quite so eager, certainly enjoyed it as much, for his disposition was always sociable.  My lady, after a warm embrace and six words to Elizabeth, said, “You will dine with me—­we are all dining together this evening;” and she communicated her commands to one of the attendants.  It was exactly as at home:  my lady took the lead, and everybody was under her orders.  Bessie liked it for old custom’s sake; Mrs. Cecil Burleigh stood a little at a loss, and asked, “What are we to do?”

The Cecil Burleighs were not staying at the Villa Giulia—­they were at another hotel on the hill above—­and the Lucases, abroad on their wedding-tour, were at a villa on the edge of the lake.  They had been making a picnic with Lady Latimer and her party that day, and were just returning when the young Musgraves appeared.  The dinner was served in a room looking upon the garden, and afterward the company walked out upon the terraces, fell into groups and exchanged news.  My lady had already enjoyed long conversations with Mr. Cecil Burleigh and Sir Edward Lucas, and she now took Mr. Harry Musgrave to talk to.  Harry slipped his hand within his wife’s arm to make her a third in the chat, but as it was information on Roman politics and social reforms my lady chiefly wanted, Bessie presently released herself and joined the wistful Dora, who was longing to give her a brief history of her own wooing and wedding.