e fair Florence
which had grown out from her own decay.

As the party left the house, and, before disappearing from the view of
Mrs. Douglas, who stood watching them, turned and waved their hands, she
thought that she had not seen her brother looking so young, care-free,
and happy for many years.

"This is doing Robert a world of good," said she to herself. "Those who
have heretofore been only children to him are now companions, and he is
becoming a boy again with them. Oh! if he could only throw off the
morbid feeling he has had about going back to America to live, and
return with us, and be happy and useful there, how delightful it would
be!"

Second only in the life of Mrs. Douglas to the great loss of her husband
had been the separation from this dearly loved brother, and it was one
of the strongest wishes of her heart that he should come back to his
native land. To have him living near her and experiencing the delights
of home life had been a long dream of whose realization she had wellnigh
despaired, as year after year had passed and he had still lingered in
foreign lands. Now, as she turned from the window and went back into the
large, sunny rooms, so quiet with the young people all gone, her
thoughts lingered upon her brother, and into them came the remembrance
of the sweet-faced Miss Sherman, whom they had met yesterday and who
seemed destined to come more or less into their lives.

"Perhaps"--she thought, and smiled at her thought so evidently born of
her wish; and then hastened to despatch a message to Miss Sherman and
Howard, lest she might miss them.

Lucile Sherman differed somewhat in character from the impression she
had made upon Mrs. Douglas. Lovely in face and figure, gifted with
winning ways, possessed of a certain degree of culture, and very
desirous of gaining the friendship of cultured people, she was most
attractive on short acquaintance. An intimacy must always reveal her
limitations and show how she just missed the best because of the lack of
any definite, earnest purpose in her life,--of real sincerity and of the
slightest element of self-sacrifice, without which no character can grow
truly noble.

She was very dear unto herself, and was accustomed to take the measure
of all things according to the way in which they affected Lucile
Sherman. When her father, for whose health the present journey to Italy
had been primarily planned, was imperatively summoned home, her
disappointment was s