of any use. After all the trouble you used to have with my wretched
headaches and ailments--"

"You never have anything of the kind now," said Miriam, with her
indulgent smile.

"Never. I am in what Mr. Mallard calls aggressive health. But it
shocks me to see how pale you still are Miriam. I thought the voyage
and these ten days at Naples--And you have such a careworn look.
Cannot you throw off your troubles under this sky?"

"You know that the sky matters very little to me, Cecily."

"If I could give you only half my delight! I was awake before dawn
this morning, and it was impossible to lie still I dressed and stood
at the open window. I couldn't see the sun itself as it rose, but I
watched the first beams strike on Capri and the sea; and I tried to
make a drawing of the island as it then looked,--a poor little
daub, but it will be precious in bringing back to my mind all I felt
when I was busy with it. Such feeling I have never known; as if
every nerve in me had received an exquisite new sense. I keep saying
to myself, 'Is this really Naples?' Let us go on to the balcony. Oh,
you _must_ be glad with me!"

Freed from the constraint of formal colloquy, and overcoming the
slight embarrassment caused by what she knew of Miriam's thoughts,
Cecily revealed her nature as it lay beneath the graces with which
education had endowed her. This enthusiasm was no new discovery to
Miriam, but in the early days it had attached itself to far other
things. Cecily seemed to have forgotten that she was ever in