He usually returned to lunch,
after which he retired to another room and slept. In the
evening he grew vigorous again, and took the air on the
ramparts, often having his dinner out, and seldom returning
till midnight or later. There were, of course, the times
when he was away altogether--at Empoli, Siena, Florence,
Bologna--for he delighted in travel, and seemed to pick up
friends all over the country. Lilia often heard what a
favorite he was.
She began to see that she must assert herself, but she
could not see how. Her self-confidence, which had
overthrown Philip, had gradually oozed away. If she left
the strange house there was the strange little town. If she
were to disobey her husband and walk in the country, that
would be stranger still--vast slopes of olives and vineyards,
with chalk-white farms, and in the distance other slopes,
with more olives and more farms, and more little towns
outlined against the cloudless sky. "I don't call this
country," she would say. "Why, it's not as wild as Sawston
Park!" And, indeed, there was scarcely a touch of wildness
in it--some of those slopes had been under cultivation for
two thousand years. But it was terrible and mysterious all
the same, and its continued presence made Lilia so
uncomfortable that she forgot her nature and began to reflect.
She reflected chiefly about her marriage. The ceremony
had been hasty and expensive, and the rites, whatever they
were, were not those of the Church of England.
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