Will you try it ?' She glanced hurriedly at her companions.
'Thank you--I think we were going to look at the rose-walk.' Manisty gave an angry laugh, said something inaudible, and walked impetuously away; only to be captured however by the Danish Professor, Doctor Jensen, who took no account of bad manners in an Englishman, holding them as natural as daylight.

The flaxen-haired savant therefore was soon happily engaged in pouring out upon his impatient companion the whole of the latest _Boletino_ of the Accademia.
Meanwhile Lucy, seeing nothing, it is to be feared, of the beauty of the Embassy garden, followed her two companions and soon found herself sitting with them on a stone seat beneath a spreading ilex.

In front was a tangled mass of roses; beyond, an old bit of wall with Roman foundations; and in the hot blue sky above the wall, between two black cypresses, a slender brown Campanile--furthest of all a glimpse of Sabine mountains.

The air was heavy with the scent of the roses, with the heat that announced the coming June, with that indefinable meaning and magic, which is Rome.
Lucy drooped and was silent.

The young Count Fioravanti however was not the person either to divine oppression in another or to feel it for himself.
He sat with his hat on the back of his head, smoking and twisting his cane, displaying to the fullest advantage those china-blue eyes, under the blackest of curls, which made him so popular in Rome.