In the intervening days, Rocca Marina was in a wonderful state of preparation.  The master of it was genuinely and honestly kindly and simple-hearted, and had entertained noble travellers before, who had been attracted by his extensive and artistic works; but no words can describe the satisfaction of his wife.  In part there was the heartfelt pleasure of receiving the cousin who had been like one of her brothers in the home of her childhood; but to this was added the glory of knowing that this same cousin was a marquis, and that the society of San Remo, nay of all the Riviera and the Italian papers to boot, would know that she was a good deal more than the quarry-owner’s wife.  Moreover, like all her family, there was a sense of Lady Rotherwood’s coming from a different sphere, and treating them with condescension.  Jane and Lily might laugh, but to Adeline it was matter of a sort of aggressive awe, half as asserting herself as “Victoria’s” equal and relation, half as protecting her from inferior people.

Geraldine perceived and was secretly amused.  Of course all the party dined at the castle on Saturday night, and heard some lamentations that there was no one else to meet the distinguished guests, for the young doctor was not thought worthy.

“But I knew you would like a family party best, and the Underwoods are-—almost connections, though—-”

In that “though” was conveyed their vast inferiority to the house of Mohun.

“I always understood that it was a very good old family,” said Lady Rotherwood.

“Clement Underwood is one of the most valuable clergy in London,” said her lord; “I am glad he is recovering.  I shall be delighted to hear him again.”

Maura was standing under the pergola with Lord Ivinghoe.

“And is not it sad for poor Franceska Vanderkist? -—Oh! you know about poor Mr. Gerald Underwood?” said Maura, blushing a little at the awkward subject.

“Of course,” said Ivinghoe impatiently.  “He is in America, is he not?  But what has she to do with it?”

“Oh, you know, after being his Mona, and all.  It can’t go any further till it is cleared up.”

Phyllis and Mysie came up, asking Maura to tell them the name of a mountain peak with a white cap.  The party came up to dinner, which was as genial and easy as the host and Lord Rotherwood could make it, and as stiff and grand as the hostess could accomplish, aided by the deftness and grace of her Italian servants.  In the evening Theodore came up to assist in the singing of glees, and Clement’s voice was a delightful and welcome sound in his sister’s ears.  Ivinghoe stood among the circle at the piano, and enjoyed.  He and his sister were not particularly musical, but enough to enjoy those remarkable Underwood voices.  After that Maura never promoted musical evenings.