Yet, nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that there was a cold shiver, a cloud of doubt, an uncomfortable sense of uncertainty in Mr. Hunstanton’s mind. He did not feel at his ease, or happy. There was something in his friend’s look, in the blank misery of his eyes, that discomfited him. He sat in his study for an hour or two, very uneasy, listening to all the steps that went up the stairs. He even posted Gigi, his servant, at the door, to bring him news if Pandolfini should come back. And when there was nothing to be heard or seen of the truant, and the day began to decline, and the hour of the Ave Maria approached, which was the end of all things, the good man could dissemble his anxiety no longer. He went{224} out stealthily (for it was time to dress for dinner) to look for his friend; and found him after a long walk very near his own house, standing by the parapet looking down into the Arno. The early moon had come out into the sky, while yet the glories 계양휴게텔 of sunset were not over. Pandolfini was staring intently at the reflection of the moon in the water—he was entirely absorbed in it. When Hunstanton touched him on the shoulder, he woke slowly, as one in a dream.

“I say, Pandolfini, my good fellow, this won’t do, you know,” he cried. “I dare say you like to dream in this way. All fellows in love (I suppose) do; so they say, at least. But you must not give yourself up to that till you have seen them. You ought to go and see them. English ladies, you know, are not accustomed to that kind of courtship. I took upon myself to break the ice for you, and they took it very well, on the score, you know, that this was how things were done by your country folks, and that it was your modesty and so forth. But they expected you to go and follow it up; so did I. English ways are different. We don’t understand that sort of way of making love by proxy. To tell you the truth, I should not have let any one do it for me. But you must follow it up. You ought to have followed it up before now.{225}”