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Page 36
Perfectly unconscious of herself, she moved with so much of womanly
grace that Robert Sumner was startled. She seemed like a stranger; this
tall, queenly creature could not be the everyday Barbara who had been
little more than a child to him. In passing she looked with a loving
smile at Mrs. Douglas, and then for a moment her eyes with the light
still in them met his, and slowly turned away. The soft flush on her
cheek deepened, and Robert Sumner felt the swift blood surge back upon
his heart until his head swam. When last had he seen such a look in
woman's eyes? Ah! how he had loved those sweet dark eyes long years ago!
Oh! the desolate longing!
Mrs. Douglas's look had followed Barbara--then had sought Bettina, who,
with Margery by her side, was surrounded by a little group of admirers;
so she was conscious of nothing unusual. But Miss Sherman, who stood
near, had seen Barbara's flush and noted Mr. Sumner's momentary pallor,
and afterward his evident effort to be just himself again. What could it
mean? she thought.
All through the evening she had suffered from a little unreasonable
jealousy as she had realized for the first time that these "Burnett
girls,"--mere companions of Margery, as she had always thought of
them,--were really young ladies, and most unusually beautiful ones, as
she was forced to confess to herself. She envied them the occasion, the
honor they gained through their intimate connection with Mr. Sumner and
Mrs. Douglas, and the impression they were so evidently making on
everybody. She was not broad or generous minded enough to be glad for
the young girls from her own country as a nobler-minded woman would have
been. But that there could be any especial feeling, or even momentary
thought, between Mr. Sumner and Barbara was too absurd to be considered
for a moment. That could not be.
Drawing near, she joined Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Sumner, and again sweetly
congratulated them on the success of their party, the beauty of the
rooms, etc.
"The young girls, too," she said, "I am sure do you great credit--quite
grown-up they seem, I declare. What a difference clothes make, do they
not? I have been a bit amused by some of their pretty airs, as an older
woman could not fail to be," and an indulgent smile played about her
lips.
As it was time to go to the dining room for refreshments, Mrs. Douglas,
in accordance with a preconceived plan, asked her brother to lead the
way with Miss Sherman. When Barbara entered the room soon after with
Howard, she saw the two sitting behind the partial screen of a big palm.
She felt a momentary wish that she could know what they were so
earnestly talking about, and, presently, was conscious that Mr.
Sumner's eyes sought her.
But how little she thought that she, herself, was the subject of their
conversation, or rather of Miss Sherman's, who was saying how apparent
the devotion of Mr. Sinclair was to every one, and that surely Barbara
must reciprocate his feeling, else she would withdraw from him; and how
pleasant it was to see such young people, just in the beginning of life,
becoming so interested in each other; and how romantic to thus find each
other in such a city as Florence; and what an advantage to become allied
with such an old, wealthy family as the Sinclairs, and so on and on.
Chapter X.
The Mystery Unfolds to Howard.
_We are in God's hand.
How strange now looks the life He makes us lead:
So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
I feel He laid the fetter: let it lie!_
--BROWNING.
[Illustration: SAN MINIATO AL MONTE, FLORENCE.]
The weeks sped rapidly on; midwinter had come and gone, and four months
had been numbered since Mrs. Douglas had brought Malcom, Margery,
Barbara, and Bettina to Italy.
Although social pleasures and duties had multiplied, yet study had never
been given up. A steady advance had been made in knowledge of the
history of Florence, and of her many legends and traditions. They had
not forgotten or passed by the sculptured treasures of the city, but had
learned something of Donatello, her first great sculptor; of Lorenzo
Ghiberti, who wrought those exquisite gates of bronze for Dante's "Il
mio bel San Giovanni" that Michael Angelo declared to be fit for the
gates of Paradise; and of Brunelleschi, the architect of her great
Duomo.
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