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Page 40
--LORD BYRON.
[Illustration: ORVIETO CATHEDRAL.]
"We will take a roundabout journey to Rome," said Mr. Sumner, "and so
get all the variety of scene and emotion possible. Something that crowds
every moment with interest will be best for all just now."
And so they planned to go first of all to Pisa: from thence to Siena,
Orvieto, Perugia, Assisi, and so on to Rome.
Miss Sherman had asked to accompany them, since Florence would be so
dull when they were gone. Indeed, she had stayed on instead of seeking
the warmer, more southern cities simply because they were here.
Therefore one morning during the last week of February all bade good-by
to their pleasant home in Florence.
"It seems like an age since we first came here, doesn't it, Bab, dear?"
said Bettina, as they entered together the spacious waiting-room of the
central railroad station.
"Yes, Betty; are we the same girls?" answered Barbara, and her smile had
just a touch of dreariness.
Mr. Sumner and Malcom were seeing to the weighing of the luggage; Mrs.
Douglas, Margery, and Miss Sherman were together; and for a moment the
two girls were alone.
Somehow Bettina felt a peculiarly tender care of her sister just now,
and was never absent from her side if she could help it. Without
understanding why or what it was, she yet felt that something had
happened which put a slight barrier between them; that something in
which she had no share had touched Barbara. She had been wistfully
watching her ever since she had returned from the visit to Howard, and
was striving to keep all opportunity for painful thought from her.
At present, Barbara shrank from telling even Bettina, from whom she had
never before hidden a thought, of that last meeting with Howard. No girl
could ever mistake such a look as that which had lighted his eyes as she
stooped to kiss his brow in answer to Mrs. Douglas's request. There
would be no need for Mrs. Douglas ever to tell her the story. The loving
devotion that shone forth even in his uttermost weakness had thrilled
her very soul, and she could not forget it for a moment when alone.
A certain sense of loss which she could not define followed her.
Somehow, it did mean more to her than it did to any one else, that
Howard was gone from their lives, but she knew that not even Betty would
understand. Indeed, she could not herself understand, for she was sure
that she had not loved Howard.
Though Barbara did not know it, the truth was that for a single instant
she had felt what it is to be loved as Howard loved her; and the loss
she felt was the loss of love,--not Howard's love--but love for itself
alone. She was not just the same girl she was when she had entered
Florence a few months ago, nor ever again would be; and between her and
Bettina,--the sisters who before this had been "as one soul in two
bodies,"--ran a mysterious Rubicon, the outer shore of which Bettina's
feet had not yet touched.
The hasty return of Mr. Sumner and Malcom with two lusty _facchini_, who
seized the hand-luggage, the hurry to be among the first at the opening
of the big doors upon the platform beside which their train was drawn
up, and the little bustle of excitement consequent on the desire to
secure an entire compartment for their party filled the next few
minutes, and soon they were off.
The journey led through a charming country lying at the base of the
Apennines. Picturesque castles and city-crowned hills against the
background of blue mountains, many of whose summits were covered with
gleaming snow, kept them looking and exclaiming with delight, until
finally they reached Lucca, and, sweeping in a half circle around Monte
San Giuliano, which, as Dante wrote, hides the two cities, Lucca and
Pisa, from each other, they arrived at Pisa.
Although they expected to find an old, worn-out city, yet only Mr.
Sumner and Mrs. Douglas were quite prepared for the dilapidated
carriages that were waiting to take them from the station to their
hotels; for the almost deserted streets, and the general pronounced air
of decadence. Even the Arno seemed to have lost all freshness, and left
all beauty behind as it flowed from Florence, and was here only a
swiftly flowing mass of muddy waters.
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