l be wiser, no doubt," said Mrs. Lessingham, "to leave the rest
of Italy for another visit. To see Naples first, and then go north, is
very much like taking dessert before one's substantial dinner. I'm a
little sorry that Cecily begins here; but it was better to come and
enjoy Naples with her friends this winter. I hope we shall spend most
of our time in Italy for a year or two."

Conversation took its natural course, and presently turned to the
subject--inexhaustible at Naples--of the relative advantages of this
and that situation for an abode. Mrs. Lessingham, turning to the
window, expressed her admiration of the view it afforded.

"I think it is still better from Mrs. Baske's sitting-room," said
Eleanor, who had been watching Cecily, and thought that she might be
glad of an opportunity of private talk with Miriam. And Cecily at once
availed herself of the suggestion.

"Would you let me see it, Miriam?" she asked. "If it is not
troublesome--"

Miriam rose, and they went out together. In silence they passed along
the corridor, and when they had entered her room Miriam walked at once
to the window. Then she half turned, and her eyes fell before Cecily's
earnest gaze.

"I did so wish to be with you in your illness!" said the girl, with
affectionate warmth. "Indeed, I would have come if I could have been of
any use. After all the trouble you used to have with my wretched
headaches and ailments--"

"You never have anything of the kind now," said Miriam, with her
indulgent smile.

"Never. I am in what Mr. Mallard calls aggressive health. But it shocks
me to see how pale you still are Miriam. I thought the voyage and these
ten days at Naples--And you have such a careworn look. Cannot you throw
off your troubles under this sky?"

"You know that the sky matters very little to me, Cecily."

"If I could give you only half my delight! I was awake before dawn this
morning, and it was impossible to lie still I dressed and stood at the
open window. I couldn't see the sun itself as it rose, but I watched
the first beams strike on Capri and the sea; and I tried to make a
drawing of the island as it then looked,--a poor little daub, but it
will be precious in bringing back to my mind all I felt when I was busy
with it. Such feeling I have never known; as if every nerve in me had
received an exquisite new sense. I keep saying to myself, 'Is this
really Naples?' Let us go on to the balcony. Oh, you _must_ be glad
with me!"