o overwhelmingly apparent that her sister Marion was
chosen to accompany him back to America, and Lucile was permitted to
spend the winter as she so much wished.

She was fond of society, of music, of literature and art; had seemingly
an enthusiastic admiration and desire for all things good and true, and
thought she embodied all her desires; but these were ever a little too
languid to subdue the self-love and overcome the inertia of all high
principles of life. It is not difficult to understand her, for the world
has many such,--in whom there is nothing really bad, only they have
missed the best.

On board the steamship, she had been much attracted by the little party
from Boston, and had made advances toward Mrs. Douglas; and when, on
that day so soon after reaching Florence, she had met Mr. Sumner and the
young people in Santa Croce, her remark that it was worth a journey from
America just to see Giotto's frescoes there--the remark that had won a
look of interest from Mr. Sumner, and that poor Barbara had brooded over
because it had caused her to feel so sorely her own ignorance--had been
spoken with the design that it should be overheard by that
distinguished-looking man who, she felt sure, must be the artist-brother
whom Mrs. Douglas had come to Italy to meet; and though she did enjoy
the old Florentine masters very much indeed, yet she had haunted the
churches and galleries a little more persistently than she would
otherwise have done, in the hope that fortune might some day favor her
by granting a meeting with Mrs. Douglas and her brother. All things come
to those who wish and wait; and so the time came when Mrs. Douglas found
her in Santa Croce, and the desired introduction and invitations were
given.

When, therefore, the request that she join the picnic party on Fiesole
reached her, and was soon followed by Mrs. Douglas's carriage, Miss
Sherman's satisfaction knew no bounds. The lovely eyes, that Barbara and
Bettina had so much admired, were more softly brilliant than ever in
their expression of happiness, and Mrs. Douglas looked the admiration
she felt for her young companion.

Meanwhile, Mr. Sumner, Malcom, Margery, Barbara, and Bettina had
gloriously enjoyed the walk out of the city through Porta Gallo, along
the banks of the Mugello, up the first slope of the hill, past Villa
Palmieri, and upward to San Domenico,--church and monastery,--which
stands about half way to the top.

Here they stopped to re