After breakfast, on the following morning, Adrian was alone, enjoying a
meditative digestion, in the sitting-room at the Hôtel de Rome, when he
saw come bowling along the Riva, turn rattling into the Piazza, and draw
up at the inn door, a very English-looking dog-cart, driven by a huge
young man in tweeds, with an apparent replica of himself beside him, and
an English-looking groom behind. The two huge young men descended; he
who had driven said something inaudible to the groom; and the groom,
touching his hat, answered: "Yes, my lord."
"So," thought Adrian, "we are not the only Britons in this island. I
wonder who my lord is."