The Runaway Visitors by Eleanor Farnes Page A

Stubbs had taken so violently against Sebastien and made his life a misery by snubbing him, simply because his precious Labradors adored Sebastien and became his slaves. She did not choose to remember all the times when she herself had had to refuse invitations because she was acting as guardian to her younger sister and brother; or, if a guardian was not necessary, was simply cut off from all her friends by being remote in Scotland or in the
    wilder reaches of Norfolk. Lucky? Yes, in some ways, but unlucky in others.
    ‘There’s so much to see in the Uffizi,’ said Charles, ‘that we’d better get going, pleasant as it is to linger here. Come along, Victoria.’
    On their way out, they were stopped yet again by a slender girl with splendid auburn hair who was lunching with a very fat man, both of whom were studying Victoria with great interest. Charles introduced them and said they had a pressing engagement and must be moving on; but before they left, the girl said to them:
    ‘Do come into the Contessa’s this evening. Masses of people there for drinks quite early. ’
    ‘Can’t promise,’ said Charles, ‘but we’ll see.’ And he took Victoria’s elbow in a possessive manner and led her out of the restaurant.
    ‘Maria and Giovanni Notario,’ he said. ‘Her first marriage, his fourth. It won’t last, of course. It’s said she married him for his money—a first step up the ladder for her. She’ll end up a princess, or a duchess at least. ’
    ‘You’re very cynical,’ said Victoria.
    ‘Italian society makes one cynical.’
    ‘Then why do you mix with it? It doesn’t suit you.’ Then she was horrified by what she had said and how personal she had become. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said immediately. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
    ‘I don’t mix with it in any real sense,’ he said. ‘I’m fond of a few people, the Contessa, Margarita, a few others. There are not many I invite to my house. Now am I forgiven for my cynicism? Must I do more to justify myself?’
    ‘I’m sorry. You certainly don’t have to justify yourself to me. It was impertinent of me. ’
    ‘Not at all. I’m interested in your opinions. . . . Ah, here’s a taxi.’
    The taxi took them down into the heat of Firenze once more to the Uffizi Gallery; and as Charles had said, there was so much to see that it was not long before Victoria was very weary. True, the pictures were wonderful, but the very richness and extent of the galleries were exhausting and Charles carried her off for coffee, saying there was no need to get mental indigestion, and there
    were plenty of other afternoons for the Uffizi. And when they had had their coffee, they wandered over the Ponte Vecchio looking into the tiny shops lining each side of the bridge, and dawdled back to the Contessa’s courtyard where they had left the car.
    ‘Now,’ said Charles, ‘ do we go up and thank the Contessa for the parking privilege, or do we drive away and ring her up when we get home?’
    ‘I leave that to you,’ said Victoria.
    ‘If we go up, we shall be kept there for all these people who are coming for drinks. Which might be a bore. On the other hand, it could be useful experience for you, Victoria, and you might even find it interesting to study this layer of Italian society at first hand. Yes, let’s go up.’
    ‘I’m not really dressed for a drinks party,’ she said.
    ‘ You look charming in your sunshine dress. Youth and beauty like yours, Victoria, don’t need dressing up.’
    She followed him into the elegant house quite stunned by his last remark. Youth and beauty like yours, he had said. Youth, yes, obviously there was no arguing with that. But beauty? From this so expert judge of what was intrinsically beautiful? A strange glow settled over Victoria as she went up the marble staircase with Charles into the salon where there were already a number of people gathered together. So much of a glow, indeed, that several people were struck by it