The house was far too big for them, and there was a
general concourse of his relatives to fill it up. His
father wished to make it a patriarchal concern, where all
the family should have their rooms and meet together for
meals, and was perfectly willing to give up the new practice
at Poggibonsi and preside. Gino was quite willing too, for
he was an affectionate youth who liked a large home-circle,
and he told it as a pleasant bit of news to Lilia, who did
not attempt to conceal her horror.

At once he was horrified too; saw that the idea was
monstrous; abused himself to her for having suggested it;
rushed off to tell his father that it was impossible. His
father complained that prosperity was already corrupting him
and making him unsympathetic and hard; his mother cried; his
sisters accused him of blocking their social advance. He
was apologetic, and even cringing, until they turned on
Lilia. Then he turned on them, saying that they could not
understand, much less associate with, the English lady who
was his wife; that there should be one master in that house--
himself.

Lilia praised and petted him on his return, calling him
brave and a hero and other endearing epithets. But he was
rather blue when his clan left Monteriano in much dignity--a
dignity which was not at all impaired by the acceptance of a
cheque. They took the cheque not to Poggibonsi, after all,
but to Empoli--a lively, dusty town some twenty miles off.
There they settled down in comfort, and the sisters said
they had been driven to it by Gino.