Eleanor shrank both from noise and spectators.

Yet she grew visibly more tired and restless, and Lucy went out to reconnoitre.

She came back recommending a descent into the forest.
So they braved a few yards of sun-scorched road and plunged into a little right-hand track, which led downward through a thick undergrowth of heath and arbutus towards what seemed the cool heart of the woods.
Presently they came to a small gate, and beyond appeared a broad, well-kept path, winding in zig-zags along the forest-covered side of the hill.
'This must be private,' said Eleanor, looking at the gate in some doubt.
'And there you see is the Palazzo Guerrini.' She pointed.

Above them through a gap in the trees showed the great yellow pile on the edge of the plateau, the forest stretching steeply up to it and enveloping it from below.
'There is nothing to stop us,' said Lucy.

'They won't turn us out, if it is theirs.