"Come, my dear fellow," said the latter; "I have been waiting for you this half hour._Allons_.But, perhaps, as I am dying to go to bed, you have made up your mind to stay supper.

Some people have no regard for other people's feelings." "No, Ferrers, I'm at your service;" and the young man descended the stairs and passed along the Chiaja towards their hotel.

As they gained the broad and open space on which it stood, with the lovely sea before them, sleeping in the arms of the curving shore, Maltravers, who had hitherto listened in silence to the volubility of his companion, paused abruptly.
"Look at that sea, Ferrers....

What a scene!--what delicious air! How soft this moonlight! Can you not fancy the old Greek adventurers, when they first colonised this divine Parthenope--the darling of the ocean--gazing along those waves, and pining no more for Greece ?" "I cannot fancy anything of the sort," said Ferrers....

"And, depend upon it, the said gentlemen, at this hour of the night, unless they were on some piratical excursion--for they were cursed ruffians, those old Greek colonists--were fast asleep in their beds." "Did you ever write poetry, Ferrers ?" "To be sure; all clever men have written poetry once in their lives--small-pox and poetry--they are our two juvenile diseases." "And did you ever _feel_ poetry!" "Feel it!" "Yes, if you put the moon into your verses, did you first feel it shining into your heart ?" "My dear Maltravers, if I put the moon into my verses, in all probability it was to rhyme to noon.