They turned back, and after she had slipped her hand on his arm, the
first words he pronounced were--

"It's lucky that we shall be able to settle in a coast town. You've
heard its name. It is Sulaco. I am so glad poor father did get that
house. He bought a big house there years ago, in order that there should
always be a Casa Gould in the principal town of what used to be called
the Occidental Province. I lived there once, as a small boy, with my
dear mother, for a whole year, while poor father was away in the United
States on business. You shall be the new mistress of the Casa Gould."

And later, in the inhabited corner of the Palazzo above the vineyards,
the marble hills, the pines and olives of Lucca, he also said--

"The name of Gould has been always highly respected in Sulaco. My uncle
Harry was chief of the State for some time, and has left a great name
amongst the first families. By this I mean the pure Creole families, who
take no part in the miserable farce of governments. Uncle Harry was no
adventurer. In Costaguana we Goulds are no adventurers. He was of the
country, and he loved it, but he remained essentially an Englishman
in his ideas. He made use of the political cry of his time. It was
Federation. But he was no politician. He simply stood up for social
order out of pure love for rational liberty and from his hate of
oppression. There was no nonsense about him. He went to work in his
own way because it seemed right, just as I feel I must lay hold of that
mine."

In such words he talked to her because his memory was very full of the
country of his childhood, his heart of his life with that girl, and his