Miss Abbott whispered, "Carella." But the driver heard
her, and a grin split over his face. The engagement must be
known already.

"Carella? Conte or Marchese, or what?"

"Signor," said Miss Abbott, and looked helplessly aside.

"Perhaps I bore you with these questions. If so, I will
stop."

"Oh, no, please; not at all. I am here--my own idea--to
give all information which you very naturally--and to see if
somehow--please ask anything you like."

"Then how old is he?"

"Oh, quite young. Twenty-one, I believe."

There burst from Philip the exclamation, "Good Lord!"

"One would never believe it," said Miss Abbott,
flushing. "He looks much older."

"And is he good-looking?" he asked, with gathering sarcasm.

She became decisive. "Very good-looking. All his
features are good, and he is well built--though I dare say
English standards would find him too short."