CHAPTER XII.

The next morning found Mr. Earnscliffe still wondering how it was that Mr. Lyne came to be in Naples, and what had become of Flora Adair. Was it possible that she had refused Mr. Lyne? He felt a little startled at finding how much these thoughts occupied his mind; but, as he had often done before, he tried to persuade himself that he was quite indifferent to her proceedings _personally_, and that it was merely for the sake of the possible good of human nature in woman that he wished to know if she had been true and high-minded enough to reject this offer. What delicious self-deception! Had Mr. Earnscliffe said to himself, "If Mary Elton, instead of Flora Adair, were in question, should I be so interested in the possible good of human nature in woman, and care so very much to discover how she had acted?" But he asked himself no such question. It would have been an unsatisfactory way of putting the case; whereas, by placing it under the head of a laudable desire to acquire knowledge of human nature, it was quite another matter, and in that light he felt himself free to dwell upon it, and even actively to endeavour to unravel the mystery. Yet he could not succeed in finding a clear starting point for his investigations.

He wandered about without any settled object, or sat upon a rock with a book in his hand; but its pages remained unturned, and not even Anina, who well knew his favourite rocky perch, and seldom failed to join him there, could win from him now anything more than an absent smile; and having exhausted all her pretty little wiles to attract his attention, she at last went and stood beside him and asked, "Is _il caro signore_ ill?"

The child's question roused him, and, drawing her to him, he said, "No, _carina_, I am not ill, I was only thinking."

"Thinking, _signore_," repeated Anina slowly, as if that word gave her the idea of a very mystic operation indeed.

"Yes, thinking, little lady; and would she like to know about what?"

"_Di grazie, signore._"

"Well, then, I was thinking of going to Napoli."

"_A Napoli?_ but _il mio caro signore_ will return; he is not going away?"

"No, _carissima_, I am not going away; I will take _il babbo_ with me, and we shall be back again to-night if possible. Will your _eccellenzina_ give me leave to go?"

"Yes," she answered, laughing merrily at the new title which he gave her; "_il signore_ may go, as he says he will be home to-night, and"--like a true child, in Italy or elsewhere--"perhaps he will bring Anina something pretty from Napoli."

"It is _not_ impossible that he might do so. What would her _eccellenzina_ be pleased to wish for?"

"There are beautiful _Madonne_ at Napoli, _signore_," she said timidly, "and the one I have is _bruttissima_,--unworthy of the Madonna who has done so much for me."

Mr. Earnscliffe pretended to be very intent on the examination of a flower which was growing at a little distance from him. He did not know how to answer the child. He felt that it was too much, not only to tolerate superstition, but actually to encourage it by giving Anina an image: and yet he did not like to disappoint her. He raised his eyes, and they met her soft liquid ones, so earnestly and pleadingly fixed on his face, that he could not bear to pain her, and he said, "You shall have your Madonna, _carissima_."

She threw her arms round his neck, declaring that never was anybody so good as he was, and "was he not also very fond of the Madonna?"

This was going from bad to worse, and he thought that the only thing to be done was to put an end to the conversation, so, without answering her question, he said, "Come, _carina_, we must go and tell _il babbo_ to get ready."

"But is not _il signore_ very fond of the Madonna?" she repeated with childish persistence.... How constantly he was tempted to tell her that all this was false, and try to teach her something nearer to truth, but he was always stopped by the thought that he himself could not explain clearly to her what truth was, and that when he left Capri he would only have rendered her unhappy, and different from all her own people; thus her faith in the Madonna and the Saints remained untarnished. Surely his good angel must have been whispering in his ear when he refrained from saying a disparaging word upon a subject which naturally irritated him, and which was so often brought before him by Anina in her lively affection for the Madonna. After a few moments' hesitation he replied, "We must ever love all that is good and beautiful, just as one loves you, _carina_, as long as you are such a dear, good little child...."

"But _il signore_ will go away some day, and then he will forget Anina," she said, looking up gravely at him.

"Ah, _carina_, you will be more likely to forget than I shall. You will have other and dearer ones to love you, while I----," he stopped suddenly, and muttered in English, "What a fool I am making of myself!" Letting go Anina's hand, he walked on quickly, saying, "Here is _il babbo_." She stood still for a moment looking at him with a puzzled air, then away she ran to tell her mother that _il signore_ had promised to bring her a beautiful Madonna from Napoli.

Mr. Earnscliffe told Paolo to have the boat ready in about half an hour, as he wished to go to Naples, and as the wind was so fair he preferred to sail rather than to take the steamer.

In this visit to Naples he had no fixed plan of action; he had not even determined whether he would call on any of his acquaintances there, yet he had a vague notion that in some way or other he would see Mr. Lyne, although at the same time he had not the slightest idea of how he was to gain any information from him. He could not ask him a single question about what was uppermost within him, yet he could not rest without making an effort in that direction. Suddenly it occurred to him that the Eltons might know something about it. He recalled the day at the Catacombs, thought of Mary Elton's eagerness to tell him that Flora was going to be married to Mr. Lyne; perhaps she might now be equally ready to tell him why the marriage had not taken place. It was possible that she might not know, but it was a chance, and so he would try to find out their address and call upon them.

As soon as he arrived in Naples he went to the _Hotel de la Grande Bretagne_, and asked if Mr. Caulfield and Mr. Lyne were staying there.

"Yes," answered the waiter, "but they are out. Will the _signore_ leave a card?"

"It is unnecessary," replied Mr. Earnscliffe, "as I shall probably meet them; but perhaps you can give me some information about an English family of the name of Elton, who have been in Naples for the last two or three weeks?"

The waiter repeated the name with tolerable correctness, and after thinking for a few moments he said, _una signora e due signorine_ had stopped there for a few days, and had afterwards taken a villa in the neighbourhood,--did the _signore_ think that these were his friends?

Mr. Earnscliffe remembered having heard that Charles Elton was obliged to return to his regiment when his mother and sisters were going to Naples, therefore it most probably was Mrs. Elton and the two young ladies of whom the waiter spoke; so he asked to see the visitors' book, and found that his supposition was correct. The address of their present residence was written after their names; and, having gained all the information he required, he rewarded the waiter's services, and desired him to call a carriage, in which he then drove to the villa.

Having reached the gate, Mr. Earnscliffe alighted, saying that he would walk up; and discharging the man, he entered.

The villa was situated about half way up one of the hills which rise behind Naples, and which command so lovely a view. Our friend stood still for a moment gazing upon it; as he did so he thought he heard a sound of voices, and looked round in the direction whence the sound seemed to come. He saw nothing, however, but a thick hedge; but on approaching it he discovered that it bordered a pretty secluded walk, which it shaded effectually from the sun. It looked very inviting, and he followed it, until he came to a spot where the hedge formed a sort of bow, and there, sitting on a stone bench, he saw Mary Elton. There was a table before her, and she leaned upon it with crossed arms and her head bent upon them. By her side knelt Helena, who had thrown one arm round her sister's waist, and with the other hand she tried to draw away the crossed arms which hid her face.

Did Mary hear Mr. Earnscliffe's step, or did she _feel_ that _he_ was looking at her? However that may be, she raised her head suddenly and saw him standing before her. Starting to her feet, the blood rushed to her face, crimsoning it all over; but it receded as quickly, and left her as pale almost as marble as she exclaimed, "Mr. Earnscliffe!" and then stood looking at him in silent amazement.

He smiled, and putting out his hand to her he said, "I came to call upon Mrs. Elton, but as I entered the gate I thought I heard voices in this direction, and that the sound of my own name caught my ear, so I took this walk instead of going direct to the house. I hope I have not intruded."

"Surely you need not fear to be looked upon as an intruder here," answered Mary, with a slightly faltering voice; "mamma will be delighted to see you."

"Of course she will," added Helena, shaking hands with him; "but where have you come from, Mr. Earnscliffe? I declare you appeared before us in so ghost-like a manner that Mary and I have not yet recovered from the shock."

"I see that I have startled Miss Elton very much," he replied, looking fixedly at Mary, who was still very pale; "yet I should have thought that she was less afraid of ghostly apparitions than you. But on this occasion you have shown more courage."

"Nevertheless," answered Mary, quietly, "I am less afraid of such things than Helena, and at all events, as I need scarcely say, I did not look upon your sudden appearance as supernatural; but I have been suffering from a nervous headache all day, and anything unexpected would have startled me for the moment."

"Then I regret having given you a start," he said, still looking inquiringly at her, as if he did not think that the effect was quite justified by the cause assigned.

"Pray do not say a word more about it, now that it is over. I dare say the start may do me good--as an electric shock. Let us go to the house."

"But all this time, Mr. Earnscliffe," interposed Helena, "you have not answered my question as to where you came from. To me it seemed as if you had dropped from the clouds."

"I did not drop from the clouds, but a friendly wind wafted me across the sea, and a chariot bore me through the air to the gate of your villa."

"Why you must be a demi-god, to have winds and chariots in attendance to bear you where you will. Are you a magician, Mr. Earnscliffe?"

"Neither, Miss Helena; but surely this is no more wonderful than dropping from the clouds as you suggested, and, as in politeness bound, I answered you in your own language."

"What a provoking man you are! You always manage to make it appear that you are right whether you are or not. But now please to answer me rationally."

"Well, then, I came from Capri, where I have been staying since I left Rome, intending to spend an afternoon in Naples. I heard that you were residing in the neighbourhood, and asked at the _Hotel de la Grande Bretagne_ if they knew your address, and as you may judge by seeing me here, my question was answered in the affirmative."

Mary turned aside her head in order to hide the flush of pleasure which she could not keep down at hearing this proof of his anxiety to see them, and Helena said, "How wonderfully condescending it was of you to take the trouble to seek us out!"

"Nay, I could not well spend a day in Naples and not call upon you, for I had not time to do so in Rome after your ball."

"There is more of your provokingness. You will never allow one to imagine that you pay a compliment."

"Surely the Misses Elton must be surfeited with compliments, and therefore could not care for, or expect any, from a half-hermit like myself."

"Oh! a compliment is always acceptable when one can flatter one's self that it is true, and _you_, I suppose, would not deign to say anything which was not strictly so."

"Certainly not." He turned to Mary and said somewhat abruptly, "I hear that Mr. Lyne is here. Was it then a groundless _on dit_ that he was going to marry Miss Adair?"

Poor Mary! What a blow this was to all her rising hopes, founded on the fact of his having shown anxiety to find them out. This question revealed to her the true motive of his visit. The revulsion of feeling was too great to allow her to speak at once, and Helena said, "Oh no, but Flora would not----"

"Helena!" interrupted Mary, sharply; "you are treading on my dress," and she laid her hand heavily on her sister's arm. Helena looked astonished, but remained silent, and Mr. Earnscliffe said--

"You were saying, Miss Helena, that Miss Adair 'would not----' Pray finish the sentence."

"Helena ought to have said," returned Mary, without giving her sister time to speak, "that Flora could not have _afforded_ to refuse such an offer as Mr. Lyne's; so perhaps she is engaged to him."

"That is not very probable, Miss Elton, as they have gone in contrary directions," answered Mr. Earnscliffe, drily; whilst he said to himself, "There is some motive here for trying to make me believe in this marriage, and it is evident I am not to be allowed to hear the truth about it, or why was the sister hindered from speaking? But I _will_ know what the mystery is." His face assumed so stern and determined an expression that Helena exclaimed, "Why, Mr. Earnscliffe, you look as if you were struggling with some imaginary enemy, whom you are resolved to conquer!"

"It must, indeed, have been an imaginary one," he answered, smiling, but the smile was not a pleasant one, "as in reality I am walking with two young ladies, neither of whom could be supposed to be my enemy, or the enemy of anybody, I suppose; but you are right in thinking that were there any such struggle, I should be resolved to conquer. I am not so easily turned aside from any purpose, whatsoever it may be"--and his eyes rested for an instant on Mary.

She felt uneasy under the scrutiny; but fortunately for her they had reached the steps, and running up, she threw open both sides of the glass-door, saying, in imitation of Helen's gay, mocking manner--

"Welcome to Bel Vedere, O mighty conqueror!"

"That is a bad edition of me, Mary," said Helena, "and does not suit you at all,--does it, Mr. Earnscliffe?"

"We are unaccustomed to it in Miss Elton," he replied; "while in you it appears as if it could not be otherwise."

"_You_ think so, of course. In your estimation I know that I am a mere butterfly, and incapable of any deeper feeling than the amusement of the moment."

"Such _you_ say is my opinion; I cannot be so rude as to contradict you, however. I certainly never said or implied anything of the kind. But we are keeping Miss Elton waiting."

They had remained standing at the foot of the steps during this little skirmish of words; then they followed Mary into the deliciously cool stone-paved hall, and from it into the drawing-room. There, too, it was equally cool, for the floor was of marble; the furniture was of a pale amber, so that the light which pierced through the closely-shut _persiennes_ was tinged with a soft golden hue; bouquets of roses gave a delicate perfume to the air; and through the open windows there came every now and then a slight breeze, laden with the scent of orange flowers.

Even Mr. Earnscliffe felt the charm of that room creeping over him. How strongly at that moment did he feel the refining power of woman's presence!--And involuntarily he sighed.

Mrs. Elton came down quickly. She seemed delighted to see him, and begged that he would partake of their four-o'clock refreshments, which were about to be served, and drive with them afterwards on the Riviera, and hear the band in the Villa Reale.

"Thank you. I shall be very happy to do so," he replied, thinking that he might chance to see Mr. Lyne there.

Shortly afterwards came coffee, cakes, fruit, creams, and light wines; and as soon as they had partaken of these, the ladies went to get ready for their drive.