‘Lucky girl,’ said Louis.

‘I’m sure I don’t care for it,’ said Clara; ’mountains and pictures are not a bit in my line, unless I had Isabel and you, Louis, to make me care.’

‘Learn, then,’ said Louis; ’it shows that your education is defective.  Yes, I see,’ he continued, as Clara signed heavily, ’but you don’t know the good it will do you to have your mind forcibly turned aside.’

‘If I could only sit quiet in a corner,’ said Clara.

‘So you will, in many a corner of a railway carriage.’

She smiled a little.  ‘The truth is,’ she said, ’that poor Uncle Oliver cannot be quiet.  I can’t see what pleasure Italy will be to him, but he is too miserable at home.  I never saw such restless unhappiness!’ and her eyes filled with tears.  ’Oh, Louis!  I am glad you would not let me say anything about leaving him.  Sometimes when he bids me good night, he puts his arm round me, and says so pitifully that I do not care for him.  Do you know, I think mine is the little spar of love that he tries to cling to in the great ship wreck; and I feel quite sorry and hypocritical that it is such a poor, miserable shred.’

‘It will grow,’ said Louis, smiling.

’I don’t know; he is terribly provoking sometimes—­and without dear granny to hinder the rubs.  O, Louis! it is true that there is no bearing to stay at home in those great empty rooms!’

‘And Jane?’

‘Oh, she goes,’ said Clara, recovering a smile; ’she is firmly persuaded that we shall run into another revolution, and as she could not frighten us by the description of your wounds, she decides to come and dress ours when we get any.  Dear old Jenny, I am glad she goes; she is the only creature I can talk to; but, Louis, before my uncle comes in, I have something to give you.’

It was the letters that Mary had written to her aunt since the parting, and the Spanish books which she had left in her charge.

‘It is very kind in you, Clara,’ said Louis, fervently.

They talked of Mary, and a little of James, from whom Clara had once heard; but it had been a stiff letter, as if a barrier were between them, and then Mr. Dynevor came in, and seemed pleased to find Louis there; even asking him whether he could not join them on their tour, and help Clara to speak French.

‘No, thank you, sir,’ said Louis, ’I am afraid my company brought no good luck last time.’

‘Never mind that—­manage better now—­ha, Clara.’

’It would be very nice; but he has a great deal too much to do at home,’ said Clara.

Oliver would not be persuaded that Fitzjocelyn would not meet them abroad, and began magniloquently talking of his courier, and his route, and while he was looking for the map, the two cousins smiled, and Clara said,—­’Lucky you to have work at home, and to stay with it.’

’Only I say, Clara, when you break down anywhere, send me a telegraph.’