What was wrong with this clever and loveable people that Mr.
Manisty should never have a good word for their institutions, or their history, or their public men?
Unjust! Nor was he even consistent with his own creed.

He, so moody and silent with Mrs.Burgoyne and Miss Manisty, could always find a smile and a phrase for the natives.

The servants adored him, and all the long street of Marinata welcomed him with friendly eyes.
His Italian was fluency itself; and his handsome looks perhaps, his keen commanding air gave him a natural kingship among a susceptible race.
But to laugh and live with a people, merely that you might gibbet it before Europe, that you might show it as the Helot among nations--there was a kind of treachery in it! Lucy Foster remembered some of the talk and feeling in America after the Manistys' visit there had borne fruit in certain hostile lectures and addresses on the English side of the water.

She had shared the feeling.

She was angry still.