Her answer was rather short: "Oh yes, he's a good creature." But before we reached Albano she said to me: "And is he really rich?"
"I don't know what you call 'really'—I only wish I had his pocket-money."
"And is he generous—free-handed?"
"Try him and you'll see."
"How can I try him?"
"Well then, ask Mrs. Goldie."
"Perhaps he'd pay to get off," mused Mrs. Rushbrook.
"Oh, they'd ask a fortune!"
"Well, he's perfect to her." And Mrs. Rushbrook repeated that he was a good creature.
That afternoon I rode back to Rome, having reminded my friend at Albano that I gave her carte-blanche and that delay would not improve matters. We had a little discussion about this, she maintaining, as a possible view, that if one left the affair alone a rupture would come of itself.
"Why should it come when, as you say, he's perfect?"
"Yes, he's very provoking," said Mrs. Rushbrook: which made me laugh as I got into the saddle.
In Rome I kept quiet three or four days, hoping to hear from Mrs. Rushbrook; I even removed myself as much as possible from the path of Guy de Montaut. I observed preparations going forward in the house occupied during the winter by Mrs. Goldie, and, in passing, I went so far as to question a servant who was tinkering a flower-stand in the doorway and from whom I learned that the padrona was expected at any hour. Wilmerding, however, returned to Rome without her; I perceived