"_Elle est encore très belle_," said Princess Oulchikov, voicing the thoughts of the whole party.
Mrs. Knolles suggested going out. Shawls were fetched and coffee was served just outside the hotel on a stone terrace.
Soon after they had sat down, Lancelot Stukely walked up to them. He was not much changed, Kathleen thought. A little grey about the temples, a little bit thinner, and slightly more tanned--his face had been burnt in the tropics--but the slow, honest eyes were the same. He said how-do-you-do to Mrs. Knolles and to herself, and was presented to the others.
"I must go back presently," he said, "but may I stay a minute?"
They talked a little with pauses in between their remarks. She did not ask him how long he was going to stay, but he explained his arrival. He had come to consult the malaria specialist.
"We have all been discussing Donna Laura Bartolini," said Mrs. Knolles. "You were dining with her?"
"Yes," he said, "she is an old friend of mine. I met her first at Cairo."
"Is she going to stay long?" asked Mrs. Knolles.
"No," he said, "she is only passing through on her way to Italy. She leaves for Ravenna to-morrow morning."
"She is looking beautiful," said Mrs. Knolles.
"Yes," he said, "she is very beautiful, isn't she?"
"I hope we shall meet again to-morrow," he said to Kathleen and to Mrs. Knolles.
"Are you staying on?" asked Mrs. Knolles.
"Oh, no," he said. "I only wanted to see the doctor. I have got to go back to England at once. I have got so much business to do."
"Of course," said Mrs. Knolles. "We will see you to-morrow. Will you come to the lakes with us?"
Lancelot hesitated and then said that he, alas, would be busy all day to-morrow. He had an appointment with the doctor--he had so little time.
He was slightly confused in his explanations. He then said good-night, and went back to his party. They were sitting at a table under the trees.
Kathleen felt relieved, unaccountably relieved, that he had gone, and she experienced a strange exhilaration. It was as if a curtain had been lifted up and she suddenly saw a different and a new world. She had the feeling of seeing clearly for the first time for many years. She saw quite plainly that as far as Lancelot was concerned, the past was completely forgotten. She meant nothing to him at all. He was the same Lancelot, but he belonged to a different world. There were gulfs and gulfs between them now. He had come here to see Donna Laura for a few hours. He had not minded doing this, although he knew that he would meet Kathleen. He had told her himself that he knew he would meet her. He had mentioned the rarity of his letters lately. He had been so busy, and then all that business ... his uncle's death.