If the neighbour happened to be uninformed in things Neapolitan, Mr.Musselwhite seized the occasion to explain at length the meteorologic significance of these varying fumes.
Luncheon over, he rose like one who is summoned to a painful duty; in fact, the great task of the day was before him--the struggle with time until the hour of dinner.

You would meet him sauntering sadly about the gardens of the Villa Nazionale, often looking at his watch, which he always regulated by the cannon of Sant' Elmo: or gazing with lack-lustre eye at a shop-window in the Toledo; or sitting with a little glass of Marsala before him in one of the fashionable _cafes_, sunk in despondency.

But when at length he appeared at the dinner-table, once more fresh from his toilet, then did a gleam of animation transform his countenance; for the victory was won; yet again was old time defeated.

Then he would discourse his best.

Two topics were his: the weather, and "my brother the baronet's place in Lincolnshire." The manner of his monologue on this second and more fruitful subject was really touching.