here and there, visible the
white outlines of some villa or hamlet.

For mile after mile they drove on; and the drive soon proved very
monotonous. It was nothing but one long and unvarying plain, with this
only change, that every mile brought them nearer to the mountains. As
the mountains were their only hope, they all looked forward eagerly to
the time when they would arrive there and wind along the road among
them.

Formerly Mrs. Willoughby alone had been the confidante of Minnie's
secret, but the events of the past few days had disclosed most of her
troubles to the other ladies also, at least as far as the general
outlines were concerned. The consequence was, that they all knew
perfectly well the reason why they were traveling in this way, and
Minnie knew that they all knew it. Yet this unpleasant consciousness
did not in the least interfere with the sweetness of her temper and
the gentleness of her manner. She sat there, with a meek smile and a
resigned air, as though the only part now left her in life was the
patient endurance of her unmerited wrongs. She blamed no one; she made
no complaint; yet there was in her attitude something so touching, so
clinging, so pathetic, so forlorn, and in her face something so sweet,
so sad, so reproachful, and so piteous, that she enforced sympathy;
and each one began to have a half-guilty fear that Minnie had been
wronged by her. Especially did Mrs. Willoughby feel this. She feared
that she had neglected the artless and simple-minded child; she feared
that she had not been sufficiently thoughtful about her; and now
longed to do something to make amends for this imaginary neglect. So
she sought to make the journey as pleasant as possible by cheerful
remarks and lively observations. None of these things, however,
produced any effect upon the attitude of Minnie. She sat there, with
unalterable sweetness and unvarying patience, just like a holy martyr,
who freely forgave all her enemies, and was praying for those who had
despitefully used her.

[Illustration: THE PROCESSION ACROSS THE CAMPAGNA.]

The exciting events consequent upon the Baron's appearance, and his
sudden revelation in the role of Minnie's lover, had exercised a
strong and varied effect upon all; but upon one its result was wholly
beneficial, and this was Ethel. It was so startling and so unexpected
that it had roused her from her gloom, and given her something to
think of. The Baron's debut in their parlor had be