the room and went often to the
window; she was observing keenly; she watched the Italian servants
intently, as they came and went; she had already had a long colloquy
with the French chambermaid, who had expounded her views on the Roman
question; she noted the small differences in the furniture, in the food,
in the sounds that came in from the street. Rowland felt, in all this,
that her intelligence, here, would have a great unfolding. He wished
immensely he might have a share in it; he wished he might show her Rome.
That, of course, would be Roderick's office. But he promised himself at
least to take advantage of off-hours.

"It behooves you to appreciate your good fortune," he said to her. "To
be young and elastic, and yet old enough and wise enough to discriminate
and reflect, and to come to Italy for the first time--that is one of the
greatest pleasures that life offers us. It is but right to remind you of
it, so that you make the most of opportunity and do not accuse yourself,
later, of having wasted the precious season."

Miss Garland looked at him, smiling intently, and went to the window
again. "I expect to enjoy it," she said. "Don't be afraid; I am not
wasteful."

"I am afraid we are not qualified, you know," said Mrs. Hudson. "We are
told that you must know so much, that you must have read so many books.
Our taste has not been cultivated. When I was a young lady at school, I
remember I had a medal, with a pink ribbon, for 'proficiency in Ancient
History'--the seven kings, or is it the seven hills? and Quintus Curtius
and Julius Caesar and--and that period, you know. I believe I have my
medal somewhere in a drawer, now, but I have forgotten all about the
kings. But after Roderick came to Italy we tried to learn something
about it. Last winter Mary used to read 'Corinne' to me in the evenings,
and in the mornings she used to read another book, to herself. What was
it, Mary, that book that was so long, you know,--in fifteen volumes?"

"It was Sismondi's Italian Republics," said Mary, simply.

Rowland could not help laughing; whereupon Mary blushed. "Did you finish
it?" he asked.

"Yes, and began another--a shorter one--Roscoe's Leo the Tenth."

"Did you find them interesting?"

"Oh yes."

"Do you like history?"

"Some of it."

"That 's a woman's answer! And do you like art?"

She paused a moment. "I have never seen it!"

"You have great advantages, now, my dear, with Roderick and Mr. Mallet,"
s