Dinner was half way through before Barnard returned to his task of studying her individually; then he turned to her with his most suavely confidential manner.
"Have you been very gay in Florence this season?" he asked.
"Gay?" she repeated. "Oh no! I don't think we are ever exactly gay."
"Indeed!" he said. "You surprise me. There used to be quite an amusing English crowd at Florence."
Clodagh coloured, feeling vaguely conscious of some want in her social equipment.
"Oh, I didn't mean the other English residents," she corrected hastily. "I meant ourselves--James and I."
Barnard's face became profoundly interested.
"But don't you care for society?" he said, his eyes travelling expressively over her pretty dress.
"It isn't that," she said in a low, quick voice. "James doesn't care about parties--or people----"
Barnard's lips parted to express surprise or sympathy; but she finished her sentence hastily.
"Of course," he said enigmatically, and dropped back into silence.
For a time he remained apparently absorbed in his dinner. Then, as Clodagh began to wonder uncomfortably whether she had unwittingly offended him, he turned to her again.
"Mrs. Milbanke," he said softly, "would you think me very presumptuous if I were to make a little proposal?"
"I--I hope so." She glanced covertly at Milbanke.
"Never mind how!" He smiled reassuringly. "You will be here for a week; and my proposal is that, while Milbanke is settling his business, I should be allowed to introduce you to some English friends of mine who are in Venice just now. It may be presumptuous, but I seem to feel"--he hesitated for a moment--"I seem to feel that you want to make some new friends--that you want to have a good time. Forgive my being so very blunt!"
Clodagh sat silent. She felt no resentment at his words, but they vaguely embarrassed her. The new possibility thrilled her; yet insensibly she hesitated before it.
"But ought I to want new friends?" she asked at last in a very low and undecided voice.
Barnard laid down the glass that he was lifting to his lips, and looked at her quickly. Her freshness charmed, while her _naïveté_ puzzled him.
"Well, Mrs. Milbanke," he said suddenly, "suppose we find that out?"
And, leaning forward, he addressed Milbanke.
