ayfully termed her once, exclaiming: "How beautiful if Fanny shall
always be a child woman."

"It shall be my earnest wish," returned Guy; "I would not have her
otherwise."

CHAPTER XX.

A WINTER IN THE ETERNAL CITY.

Gerald Bereford was now enjoying the soft summer breezes, blue skies and
golden sunshine of an Italian climate. His health seemed to improve as
he neared the far-famed city--the eternal city--the gigantic monument of
what has been in ages of the mighty past. Many visions arose before Lady
Rosamond's mind as she contemplated the magnificent ruins that met her
at every gaze. In the company of several acquaintances they visited
scenes of impressive and peculiar interest: St. Peter's, in all its
glory, rising from its piazza of stately columns and fountains,
something too grand for description. This imposing specimen of classic
architecture, with grandeur inconceivable, the interior, the lofty dome,
called up emotions her ladyship could never forget. In the coliseum the
invalid seemed to enjoy returning vigor as he looked down from the upper
halls and viewed the triumphal arches of Constantine, Septimus, Severus
and Titus, now crumbling into decay, the lofty corridors left to the
mercy of the elements, the endless porches grass grown and unprotected
from the wild beast, the mouldering parapet, taught the one inspiring
theme--mortality. This ruin of ruins--what can it not recall to a vivid
imagination? The thousands who lined those seats in eager gaze upon the
arena with its bloody and heart-sickening conflicts, its array of
blood-thirsty antagonists, its dying groans, its weltering victims.
Where are they? What remains? Awful solitude, awful grandeur, awful
beauty, desolation. Peace, the emblem of Christianity, now reigns in the
ancient stronghold of barbaric passion, butchery and strife. Lady
Rosamond had visited ruins of palaces, castles, bridges, arches,
cathedrals, monuments and countless relics of the past, but none had the
power to chain her thoughts as the stupendous coliseum, viewed in the
solemn stillness of a moonlight night. The present was a beautiful
dream. It had a softening effect upon the devoted wife, infusing peace,
content, and calm repose. The solemn reminders on every side had a charm
to soothe her hitherto troubled breast. Holy emotions were nurtured
within the heart where once reposed unresisting conflicts of rebellious
strife and discontent.

With the warm breath of nature