SLUMBERING HEART.

Time had hung heavily on Lettice's hands during the first month or two
of her stay on the Continent. No one could have been kinder to her than
Mrs. Hartley, more considerate of her needs and tastes, more anxious to
please and distract her. But the recovery of her nerves from the shock
and strain to which they had been subjected was a slow process, and her
mind began to chafe against the restraint which the weakness of the body
imposed upon it.

The early spring brought relief. Nature repairs her own losses as she
punishes her own excess. Lettice had suffered by the abuse of her energy
and power of endurance, but three months of idleness restored the
balance. The two women lived in a small villa on the outskirts of
Florence, and when they were not away from home, in quest of art or
music, scenery or society, they read and talked to each other, or
recorded their impressions on paper. Mrs. Hartley had many friends in
England, with whom she was wont to exchange many thousand words; and
these had the benefit of the ideas which a winter in Florence had
excited in her mind. Lettice's confidant was her diary, and she sighed
now and then to think that there was no one in the world to whom she
could write the inmost thoughts of her heart, and from whom she could
expect an intelligent and sympathetic response.

No doubt she wrote to Clara, and gave her long accounts of what she saw
and did in Italy; but Clara was absorbed in the cares of matrimony and
motherhood. She had nothing but actualities to offer in return for the
idealities which were Lettice's mental food and drink. This had always
been the basis of their friendship; and it is a basis on which many a
firm friendship has been built.

Lettice had already felt the elasticity of returning health in every
limb and vein when the news reached her of the success of her novel; and
that instantly completed the cure. Her publisher wrote to her in high
spirits, at each demand for a new edition, and he forwarded to her a
handsome cheque "on account," which gave more eloquent testimony of his
satisfaction than anything else. Graham sent her, through Clara, a
bundle of reviews which he had been at the pains of cutting out of the
papers, and Clara added many criticisms, mostly favorable, which she had
heard from her husband and his friends. Lettice had a keen appetite for
praise, as for pleasure of every kind, and she was intoxicated by the
good things which were