“Yes, we—my brother and I—are just come from town,” she replied with a demure smile. “But, I see that I interrupt your walk and your thoughts. I hope you will forgive the intrusion, as it springs from the enthusiasm of friendship, and not from any design of disturbing your solitude.”

“It does not follow, Miss Crawford,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam with just the hint of a bow, “that such obtrusion is unwelcome. How long have you been in Tunbridge, and what business brings the illustrious Crawfords hither?”

“Oh!” cried Mary, “We prefer Tunbridge to anything. It is so much more fashionable now than Bath, and so much less crowded than Brighton. How long do you stay, Colonel?”

“I am to stay on some few more days, until I travel to meet my cousins. We are to make a tour of Italy, and I leave this place to meet them in Geneva,” he replied somewhat curtly.

“La! That is too bad, it is,” she said, effecting a graceful manoeuvre to take his arm. “Henry and I had planned on a much longer stay. I tire of town so quickly! I am far more at home in a respectable place such as this, full of innocent diversions, and the air so much more salubrious. After only a little time in town, I was quite frantic to leave, and as my brother is entirely susceptible to my whims and inconsistencies, I was able to persuade him to accompany me hither. Of a sudden, I determined that Tunbridge Wells should be quite the place to pass the last of the cold weather, and of course, I see that my feminine intuition was correct! Henry will be most eager to see you again. It is indeed a most fortuitous coincidence!”

Colonel Fitzwilliam thought, rather than felt, his discomfort at the familiar weight of Mary’s arm on his; his reason revolted at the touch, but his heart did not. The lady did not allow him leisure to decide the contest, however, and continued speaking in her usual, engaging manner.

“A tour to Italy! I should like that above all things!” cried Mary. “Where do you go? Rome, Florence, Milan? Do you go as far south as Sardinia? Oh! How I envy you your journey!”

Colonel Fitzwilliam was yet master of himself to reply in a reserved tone, “Well, Miss Crawford, I wonder that you and your brother do not make such a journey. Now that Buonaparte is defeated, the country is quite safe, and I hear that the roads and inns are quite as comfortable as before.”

“So we should! But, I find that I have not the heart to undertake it without someone who could act as a tutor—a learned guide. You, as one who has experienced such a wealth of study abroad, will afford your companions immeasurable delight with your knowledge and reflections. How I wish I could be of your party and share such excellent tutelage!”