gold and
purple reflections which sometimes seemed to fill both water and air;
they would see the white shafts of Paestum, yes, it would be soon cool
enough for that; or if they must wait for Paestum, there were enough
old monasteries and ruined castles and beauties of the like sort to
keep them busy for many a day. Beauties which Dolly and Mr. Thayer
loved. Nobody else in the house loved them. Christina had hardly an eye
for them; and St. Leger, if he looked, did not care for what he saw.
Nevertheless, they three would go picnicking through the wonderful old
land, where every step was on monumental splendour or historical ashes,
and the sights would be before them; whether they had eyes to see or
no. For Dolly it was all done. She was glad she had had so much and
enjoyed so much; and that enjoyment had given memory such a treasure of
things to keep, that were hers for all time, and could be looked at in
memory's chambers whenever she pleased. Yet she could not see the
moonlight on the bay of Naples this evening for the last time, and
remember towards what she was turning her face, without some tears
coming that nobody saw--tears that were salt and hot.

The journey home was a contrast to the way by which they had come. It
pleased Mr. Copley to go by sea from Naples to Marseilles, and from
thence through France as fast as the ground could be passed over, till
they reached Dover. And although those were not the days of lightning
travel, yet travelling continually, the effect was of one swift,
confused rush between Naples and London. Instead of the leisurely,
winding course pursued to Dresden, and from Dresden to Venice,
deviating at will from the shortest or the most obvious route, stopping
at will at any point where the fancy took them, dawdling, speculating,
enjoying, getting good out of every step of the way,--this journey was
a sort of flash from the one end of it to the other, with nothing seen
or remembered between but the one item of fatigue. So it came about,
that when they found themselves in a London lodging-house, and Mrs.
Copley and Dolly sat down and looked at each other, they had the
feeling of having left Sorrento last evening, and of being dazed with
the sudden transition from Sorrento and sunshine to London and smoke.

"Well!" said Mr. Copley, rubbing his hands, "here we are!"

"I don't feel as if I was anywhere," said his wife. "My head's in a
whirl. Is this the way you like to travel, Frank?"

"Th