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- Уилки Коллинз
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The
second
letter
was
dated
from
Rome
.
’
My
lord
’
s
caprices
’
(
Ferrari
wrote
)
’
have
kept
us
perpetually
on
the
move
.
He
is
becoming
incurably
restless
.
I
suspect
he
is
uneasy
in
his
mind
.
Painful
recollections
,
I
should
say
—
I
find
him
constantly
reading
old
letters
,
when
her
ladyship
is
not
present
.
We
were
to
have
stopped
at
Genoa
,
but
he
hurried
us
on
.
The
same
thing
at
Florence
.
Here
,
at
Rome
,
my
lady
insists
on
resting
.
Her
brother
has
met
us
at
this
place
.
There
has
been
a
quarrel
already
(
the
lady
’
s
maid
tells
me
)
between
my
lord
and
the
Baron
.
The
latter
wanted
to
borrow
money
of
the
former
.
His
lordship
refused
in
language
which
offended
Baron
Rivar
.
My
lady
pacified
them
,
and
made
them
shake
hands
.
’
The
third
,
and
last
letter
,
was
from
Venice
.
’
More
of
my
lord
’
s
economy
!
Instead
of
staying
at
the
hotel
,
we
have
hired
a
damp
,
mouldy
,
rambling
old
palace
.
My
lady
insists
on
having
the
best
suites
of
rooms
wherever
we
go
—
and
the
palace
comes
cheaper
for
a
two
months
’
term
.
My
lord
tried
to
get
it
for
longer
;
he
says
the
quiet
of
Venice
is
good
for
his
nerves
.
But
a
foreign
speculator
has
secured
the
palace
,
and
is
going
to
turn
it
into
an
hotel
.
The
Baron
is
still
with
us
,
and
there
have
been
more
disagreements
about
money
matters
.
I
don
’
t
like
the
Baron
—
and
I
don
’
t
find
the
attractions
of
my
lady
grow
on
me
.
She
was
much
nicer
before
the
Baron
joined
us
.
My
lord
is
a
punctual
paymaster
;
it
’
s
a
matter
of
honour
with
him
;
he
hates
parting
with
his
money
,
but
he
does
it
because
he
has
given
his
word
.
I
receive
my
salary
regularly
at
the
end
of
each
month
—
not
a
franc
extra
,
though
I
have
done
many
things
which
are
not
part
of
a
courier
’
s
proper
work
.
Fancy
the
Baron
trying
to
borrow
money
of
me
!
he
is
an
inveterate
gambler
.
I
didn
’
t
believe
it
when
my
lady
’
s
maid
first
told
me
so
—
but
I
have
seen
enough
since
to
satisfy
me
that
she
was
right
.
I
have
seen
other
things
besides
,
which
—
well
!
which
don
’
t
increase
my
respect
for
my
lady
and
the
Baron
.
The
maid
says
she
means
to
give
warning
to
leave
.
She
is
a
respectable
British
female
,
and
doesn
’
t
take
things
quite
so
easily
as
I
do
.
It
is
a
dull
life
here
.
No
going
into
company
—
no
company
at
home
—
not
a
creature
sees
my
lord
—
not
even
the
consul
,
or
the
banker
.
When
he
goes
out
,
he
goes
alone
,
and
generally
towards
nightfall
.
Indoors
,
he
shuts
himself
up
in
his
own
room
with
his
books
,
and
sees
as
little
of
his
wife
and
the
Baron
as
possible
.
I
fancy
things
are
coming
to
a
crisis
here
.
If
my
lord
’
s
suspicions
are
once
awakened
,
the
consequences
will
be
terrible
.
Under
certain
provocations
,
the
noble
Montbarry
is
a
man
who
would
stick
at
nothing
.
However
,
the
pay
is
good
—
and
I
can
’
t
afford
to
talk
of
leaving
the
place
,
like
my
lady
’
s
maid
.
’
Agnes
handed
back
the
letters
—
so
suggestive
of
the
penalty
paid
already
for
his
own
infatuation
by
the
man
who
had
deserted
her
!
—
with
feelings
of
shame
and
distress
,
which
made
her
no
fit
counsellor
for
the
helpless
woman
who
depended
on
her
advice
.
’
The
one
thing
I
can
suggest
,
’
she
said
,
after
first
speaking
some
kind
words
of
comfort
and
hope
,
’
is
that
we
should
consult
a
person
of
greater
experience
than
ours
.
Suppose
I
write
and
ask
my
lawyer
(
who
is
also
my
friend
and
trustee
)
to
come
and
advise
us
to
-
morrow
after
his
business
hours
?
’
Emily
eagerly
and
gratefully
accepted
the
suggestion
.
An
hour
was
arranged
for
the
meeting
on
the
next
day
;
the
correspondence
was
left
under
the
care
of
Agnes
;
and
the
courier
’
s
wife
took
her
leave
.
Weary
and
heartsick
,
Agnes
lay
down
on
the
sofa
,
to
rest
and
compose
herself
.
The
careful
nurse
brought
in
a
reviving
cup
of
tea
.
Her
quaint
gossip
about
herself
and
her
occupations
while
Agnes
had
been
away
,
acted
as
a
relief
to
her
mistress
’
s
overburdened
mind
.
They
were
still
talking
quietly
,
when
they
were
startled
by
a
loud
knock
at
the
house
door
.
Hurried
footsteps
ascended
the
stairs
.
The
door
of
the
sitting
-
room
was
thrown
open
violently
;
the
courier
’
s
wife
rushed
in
like
a
mad
woman
.
’
He
’
s
dead
!
They
’
ve
murdered
him
!
’
Those
wild
words
were
all
she
could
say
.
She
dropped
on
her
knees
at
the
foot
of
the
sofa
—
held
out
her
hand
with
something
clasped
in
it
—
and
fell
back
in
a
swoon
.
The
nurse
,
signing
to
Agnes
to
open
the
window
,
took
the
necessary
measures
to
restore
the
fainting
woman
.
’
What
’
s
this
?
’
she
exclaimed
.
’
Here
’
s
a
letter
in
her
hand
.
See
what
it
is
,
Miss
.
’
