|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 22
Chapter VI.
Lucile Sherman.
_In life's small things be resolute and great
To keep thy muscle trained; Knowest thou when Fate
Thy measure takes? Or when she'll say to thee,
"I find thee worthy. Do this deed for me?_"
--LOWELL.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF FLORENCE.]
The tourist who devotes a few days to Florence, or a few weeks even, can
have no conception of what it means to live in this city; to awake
morning after morning and look out upon the lines of her hills and catch
glimpses of their distant blues and purples; to be free to wander about
at will through her streets, every one of which is crowded with legend
and romance; to look upon her palaces and churches, about which cluster
so many deeds of history; to visit the homes of her immortal men--poets
and artists; to walk step by step instead of whirling along in a
carriage; and to grow to feel a close intimacy with her sculptures and
paintings, and even with the very stones that are built into her palace
walls.
For Florence is comparatively a small city. A good pedestrian can easily
walk from Porta Romana on the south to Porta Gallo on the north; or
from Porta San Niccolo on the east, along the banks of the Arno, to the
Cascine Gardens on the west. It is only an afternoon of genuine delight
to climb the lovely, winding ways leading up to San Miniato, or to
Fiesole, or to the Torre del Gallo,--the "Star Tower of Galileo." And
what a feeling of possession one has for a road which he has travelled
foot by foot; for the rocks and trees and vine-covered walls, and the
ever-changing views which continually demand attention! One absorbs and
assimilates as in no other way.
So when, at breakfast one morning, Mr. Sumner suggested a walk up to
Fiesole, a picnic lunch at the top in the grounds of the old monastery,
and the whole day there, coming down at sunset, his proposition met with
delighted assent. It was planned that Mrs. Douglas should take a
carriage, and invite Miss Sherman and Howard Sinclair to go with her,
but the others were ready and eager for the walk. Anita, the little
housemaid, was to accompany them and carry the luncheon, and she was on
tiptoe with joy, because a whole day under the open sky is the happiest
fortune possible for an Italian girl; and, besides this, they would have
to pass close by her own home, and perhaps her little brother could go
with her.
All felt a peculiar affection for Fiesole, because from the house in
which they were living they could look right out upon the historic old
city nestling into the hollow of the hill-top, and watch its changing
lights and shadows, and say "good morning" and "good night" to it.
Barbara and Bettina had often tried to fancy what life there was like so
many centuries ago, when the city was rich and powerful; and afterward,
when the old Romans had taken possession of it, and the ruined
amphitheatre was whole and noisy with games; or in later times, when the
venerable Cathedral was fresh and new. They felt a kind of pity for the
forlorn old place, peopled with so much wrinkled age, and forever
looking down upon all the loveliness and treasures of the fair Florence
which had grown out from her own decay.
As the party left the house, and, before disappearing from the view of
Mrs. Douglas, who stood watching them, turned and waved their hands, she
thought that she had not seen her brother looking so young, care-free,
and happy for many years.
"This is doing Robert a world of good," said she to herself. "Those who
have heretofore been only children to him are now companions, and he is
becoming a boy again with them. Oh! if he could only throw off the
morbid feeling he has had about going back to America to live, and
return with us, and be happy and useful there, how delightful it would
be!"
Second only in the life of Mrs. Douglas to the great loss of her husband
had been the separation from this dearly loved brother, and it was one
of the strongest wishes of her heart that he should come back to his
native land. To have him living near her and experiencing the delights
of home life had been a long dream of whose realization she had wellnigh
despaired, as year after year had passed and he had still lingered in
foreign lands. Now, as she turned from the window and went back into the
large, sunny rooms, so quiet with the young people all gone, her
thoughts lingered upon her brother, and into them came the remembrance
of the sweet-faced Miss Sherman, whom they had met yesterday and who
seemed destined to come more or less into their lives.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|