and more or less of such withholding is expedient; but the American woman does not recognise the danger; and, if she withhold the grace of her countenance and the pearls of her speech, it is because she is not desirous of the society which is proffered to her.  These two American sisters had not withholden their pearls from Mr Glascock.  He was much their senior in age; he was gentle in his manners, and they probably recognised him to be a safe companion.  They had no idea who he was, and had not heard his name when they parted from him.  But it was not probable that they should have been with him so long, and that they should leave him without further thought of him, without curiosity, or a desire to know more of him.  They had seen ‘C.  G.’ in large letters, on his dressing-bag, and that was all they had learned as to his identity.  He had known their names well, and had once called Olivia by hers, in the hurry of speaking to her sister.  He had apologised, and there had been a little laugh, and a discussion about the use of Christian names such as is very conducive to intimacy between gentlemen and ladies.  When you can talk to a young lady about her own Christian name, you are almost entitled for the nonce to use it.

Mr Glascock went to his hotel, and was very moody and desolate.  His name was very soon known there, and he received the honours due to his rank and station.  ‘I should like to travel in America,’ he said to himself, ‘if I could be sure that no one would find out who I was.’  He had received letters at Turin, stating that his father was better, and, therefore, he intended to remain two days at Florence.  The weather was still very hot, and Florence in the middle of September is much preferable to Naples.

That night, when the two Miss Spaldings were alone together, they discussed their fellow-traveller thoroughly.  Something, of course, had been said about him to their uncle the minister, to their aunt the minister’s wife, and to their cousin the secretary of legation.  But travellers will always observe that the dear new friends they have made on their journey are not interesting to the dear old friends whom they meet afterwards.  There may be some touch of jealousy in this; and then, though you, the traveller, are fully aware that there has been something special in the case which has made this new friendship more peculiar than others that have sprung up in similar circumstances, fathers and brothers and wives and sisters do not see it in that light.  They suspect, perhaps, that the new friend was a bagman, or an opera dancer, and think that the affair need not be made of importance.  The American Minister had cast his eye on Mr Glascock during that momentary parting, and had not thought much of Mr Glascock.  ’He was, certainly, a gentleman,’ Caroline had said.  ’There are a great many English gentlemen,’ the minister had replied.

‘I thought you would have asked him to call,’ Olivia said to her sister.  ‘He did offer.’