B eatrice writes in her journal, sitting at the desk in her new home on La Rocca Sorrentina and looks out the window at the brilliant sunset over the Mediterranean.

She is feeling safer now, safer than she has felt in a long time. Perhaps she finally has found a home - a place where she can relax and establish herself among the kind and friendly people she has recently met there. Thanks to Hugo's generosity, she has new clothes and newly styled hair has received a number of compliments - especially her about curls en papillots so very fashionable these days. She is happy that Elisabetta is here with her, slowly eating herself back to health. And Hugo - how wonderful he has been, so attentive and affectionate - although she has a nervous feeling he is worried about something, not quite settled here. He finally wrote to Snr. Gandt thanking him for his letter of introduction to the Island (it took a bit of encouragement from Beatrice) but for some reason he seemed uneasy about this. Something is worrying him. Beatrice has observed that Hugo often goes walking around the grounds at night and constantly paces back and forth in his room. She hears him in the small hours of the morning despite the muffling of carpeted floors. She writes:

"I have finally had the time to engage in good conversation with Elisabetta. I had wondered how she was bearing up under all these changes - she is so young and vulnerable. We have has such an unsettled few years together. First, our flight south to Venezia, then gradually settling in, learning the Venetian language and customs and finding work; then her being siezed by the sbirri and put in jail, (what an ordeal!) Then her release, thanks to Hugo, and but then being attacked on the high seas on our way to Rocca Sorrentina. What adventures! She has been very reslilient.

Perhaps, we can f inally f ind a new life on this friendly island. During the past week we have spent many hours reminiscing about the good and bad times: playing as children in the gardens of SansSouci under the loving eyes of our parents, their bitter fight with old Fritz and our family's expulsion out of Prussia and into Austria where we were protected by Joseph II and played with his pretty little sister Marie Antoinette. There followed Elisabetta's education in Vienna, my failed marriage with the Duc (Dear Leopold, he used to call me "Blissful") and his tragic death followed by our long, arduous flight by coach through the mountains passes to Venezia. We have been through a lot together,my sister and I! It was good to talk about all this again and to hear the story from her perspective. She is still a little sad about leaving the cosmopolitan centre of La Serenissima and its whirl of social life - I believe she left a boy behind - but she also realizes she is safer living here now."

Beatrice puts down her pen, gets up, and moves around her room. She looks at the few worn books she brought with her when she left for Venice: Voltaire's Candide, Goethe's Sorrows of Young Werther and Cartier's recent revision of the Bible. Most of the rest of her belongings were left behind in Venice. She had no time to properly pack but spent the last few days there looking after Elisabetta. Now she needs to pull her thoughts together and decide how she will make a living. There is no need for a courtesan on this small island and she can't always depend on Hugo for support, no matter how generous he has been.

Beatrice walks down to the doorway of the villa, framed by massive marble columns and gazes out at the harbour, at the green expanse of lawn bisected by the long shadow of the Egyptian obelisk, and at the terra cotta roofs of the town beyond, glowing in the setting sun. How beautiful it is! She decides that tomorrow she will walk down to the cafe in town and ask if she can help Lady Macbain in the kitchen or serving the customers. That might bring in a small but regular income. Perhaps there is work to be done in the kitchen garden; she will ask. How my circumstances have changed, she reflects, in the past ten years !

Beatrice climbs the stairs to her room and prepares for bed. Hugo's footsteps begin their regular rhythm on the other side of the wall.