RODERICK HUDSON
prayers at one of the side-altars; the other was seated against a column at the upper end of the nave. Rowland walked to the altar and paid in a momentary glance at the clever statue of the saint in death in the niche beneath it the usual tribute to the charm of polished ingenuity. As he turned away he looked at the person seated and recognised Christina Light. Seeing that she perceived him he advanced to speak to her.
She was sitting in a listless manner, her hands in her lap; her attitude spoke of weariness, and her walking-dress, in its simplicity, of the desire to escape observation. When he had greeted her he glanced back at her companion and recognised the faithful Assunta.
Christina found a smile to note this movement. "Are you looking round for Mr. Hudson? He's not here, I 'm happy to say."
"If he were here one might understand," said Row land. "This is a strange place to meet you alone."
"It's just the place to meet me. People call me a strange girl, and I might as well have the comfort of it. I came to take a walk; that, by the way, is part of my strangeness. I can't loll all the morning on a sofa and sit perched all the afternoon in a carriage. I get horribly restless; I must move; I must do something and see something. Mamma suggests a cup of tea. Meanwhile I put on an old dress and half a dozen veils, I take Assunta under my arm and we start on a pedestrian tour. It 's a bore that I can't take the poodle, but he attracts attention. We trudge about everywhere; there 's nothing I
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