sympathy with the mood which imposed silence on her friend. Her eyes
drank light from the landscape; her beauty was transfigured by
passionate reception of all the influences this scene could exercise
upon heart and mind. She leaned on the railing of the balcony, and
gazed until tears of ecstasy made her sight dim.

"Let us see much of each other whilst we are here," she said
suddenly, turning to Miriam. "I could never have dreamt of our being
together in Italy; it is a happy fate, and gives me all kinds of
hope. We will be often alone together in glorious places. We will
talk it over; that is better than writing. You shall understand me,
Miriam. You shall get as well and strong as I am, and know what I
mean when I speak of the joy of living. We shall be sisters again,
like we used to be."

Miriam smiled and shook her head.

"Tell me about things at home. Is Miss Baske well?"

"Quite well. I have had two letters from her since I was here. She
wished me to give you her love."

"I will write to her. And is old Don still alive?"

"Yes, but very feeble, poor old fellow. He forgets even to be angry
with the baker's boy."

Cecily laughed with a moved playfulness.

"He has forgotten me. I don't like to be forgotten by any one who