But as soon as she had behaved as usual to her grand-daughter, she went to the library and took out the large atlas, for she wanted to know about Monteriano.  The name was in the smallest print, in the midst of a woolly-brown tangle of hills which were called the “Sub-Apennines.”  It was not so very far from Siena, which she had learnt at school.  Past it there wandered a thin black line, notched at intervals like a saw, and she knew that this was a railway.  But the map left a good deal to imagination, and she had not got any.  She looked up the place in “Childe Harold,” but Byron had not been there.  Nor did Mark Twain visit it in the “Tramp Abroad.”  The resources of literature were exhausted:  she must wait till Philip came home.  And the thought of Philip made her try Philip’s room, and there she found “Central Italy,” by Baedeker, and opened it for the first time in her life and read in it as follows:—­

Monteriano (pop. 4800).  Hotels:  Stella d’Italia, moderate only; Globo, dirty. * Caffe Garibaldi.  Post and Telegraph office in Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, next to theatre.  Photographs at Seghena’s (cheaper in Florence).  Diligence (1 lira) meets principal trains.

Chief attractions (2-3 hours):  Santa Deodata, Palazzo Pubblico, Sant’ Agostino, Santa Caterina, Sant’ Ambrogio, Palazzo Capocchi.  Guide (2 lire) unnecessary.  A walk round the Walls should on no account be omitted.  The view from the Rocca (small gratuity) is finest at sunset.

History:  Monteriano, the Mons Rianus of Antiquity, whose Ghibelline tendencies are noted by Dante (Purg. xx.), definitely emancipated itself from Poggibonsi in 1261.  Hence the distich, “Poggibonizzi, FAUI in la, che Monteriano si fa citta!” till recently enscribed over the Siena gate.  It remained independent till 1530, when it was sacked by the Papal troops and became part of the Grand Duchy of Tuscany.  It is now of small importance, and seat of the district prison.  The inhabitants are still noted for their agreeable manners.

— — — — —

The traveller will proceed direct from the Siena gate to the Collegiate Church of Santa Deodata, and inspect (5th chapel on right) the charming * Frescoes....

Mrs. Herriton did not proceed.  She was not one to detect the hidden charms of Baedeker.  Some of the information seemed to her unnecessary, all of it was dull.  Whereas Philip could never read “The view from the Rocca (small gratuity) is finest at sunset” without a catching at the heart.  Restoring the book to its place, she went downstairs, and looked up and down the asphalt paths for her daughter.  She saw her at last, two turnings away, vainly trying to shake off Mr. Abbott, Miss Caroline Abbott’s father.  Harriet was always unfortunate.  At last she returned, hot, agitated, crackling with bank-notes, and Irma bounced to greet her, and trod heavily on her corn.