“My wife is quite right,” Canon Ebley agreed.  “We should listen to no more until Stella is here to defend herself.  Let us send a message for her to descend at once.”

He went and rang the bell as he spoke, and the summons to Miss Rawson was dispatched.  Then the three somewhat uncomfortably tried to exchange platitudes upon indifferent subjects until the waiter returned.

Mademoiselle was very fatigued and was not yet up!  Such an unheard of thing petrified them all with astonishment.  Stella to be still in bed, at half past nine in the morning!  The child must be ill!—­ or it was distinct rebellion.  Mrs. Ebley prepared to go and investigate matters when another waiter entered with a note for Canon Ebley, and stood aside to receive the answer.

“Dear, dear!” said that gentleman to his wife, “I have not my glasses with me, I came down in such a hurry.  Will you read it to me?”

But Mrs. Ebley was in a like plight, so they were obliged to enlist the services of Eustace Medlicott.

He knew the writing directly he glanced at it and every move of his body stiffened with renewed anger.  And it is to be feared he said to himself, “it is from that cursed man.”

He read it aloud, and it was the briefest and most courteous note asking for the honor of an interview at whatever time would be most agreeable to Canon Ebley.  The nature of the business to be discussed at it was not stated.

“I strongly advise you not to see the scoundrel,” Mr. Medlicott said vehemently.  “It is far better that we should all leave Rome immediately and avoid any chance of scandal.”

“Before we can decide anything,” Mrs. Ebley said decisively, “I must speak with my niece.  If she is quite ignorant of this foreigner’s ravings, then there will be no necessity to alter our trip—­we can merely move to another hotel.  The whole thing is most unpleasant and irritating and has quite upset me.”

Stella, upstairs in her cosy bed, had meanwhile received another note from her lover.  Full of tenderness and encouragement, it made her feel as bold as a young lioness and ready to brave any attack.  That her aunt had not been to see why she was not dressed already was filling her with surprise, and after the waiter had brought the message she guessed the reason why.

A firm tap to the door presently and her Aunt Caroline’s voice saying sternly.  “It is I, Stella, please let me in at once.”

Miss Rawson got out of bed, unlocked the door and bounded back again, and a figure of dignified displeasure sailed into the room.

“Are you ill, my dear?” Mrs. Ebley asked, in a stern voice.  “It is otherwise very strange that you should not be dressed at this hour—­it is a quarter to ten o’clock.”

“No, I am not exactly ill, Aunt Caroline,” Stella answered gently, “but I was very tired, and as I was making up my mind what I should say in my letter to Eustace to break off my engagement—­I preferred not to come down until I had done so.”