But even Philip, who in theory loved
outraging English conventions, rose to the occasion, and
gave her a talking which she remembered to her dying day.
It was just then, too, that they discovered that she still
allowed Mr. Kingcroft to write to her "as a gentleman
friend," and to send presents to Irma.
Philip thought of Italy, and the situation was saved.
Caroline, charming, sober, Caroline Abbott, who lived two
turnings away, was seeking a companion for a year's travel.
Lilia gave up her house, sold half her furniture, left the
other half and Irma with Mrs. Herriton, and had now
departed, amid universal approval, for a change of scene.
She wrote to them frequently during the winter--more
frequently than she wrote to her mother. Her letters were
always prosperous. Florence she found perfectly sweet,
Naples a dream, but very whiffy. In Rome one had simply to
sit still and feel. Philip, however, declared that she was
improving. He was particularly gratified when in the early
spring she began to visit the smaller towns that he had
recommended. "In a place like this," she wrote, "one really
does feel in the heart of things, and off the beaten track.
Looking out of a Gothic window every morning, it seems
impossible that the middle ages have passed away." The
letter was from Monteriano, and concluded with a not
unsuccessful description of the wonderful little town.
"It is something that she is contented," said Mrs.
Herriton. "But no one could live three months with Caroline
Abbott and not be the better for it.
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