she thought to herself: "It is a
hopeless undertaking to educate her after the New England pattern. One
might as well try to plough with a butterfly, as to teach her ancient
history."

When they had wandered about a little while longer, happy as souls
newly arrived in the Elysian Fields, Mrs. Delano said: "My child, you
have already gathered mosses enough to fill the carriage, and it is
time for us to return. You know twilight passes into darkness very
quickly here."

"Just let me gather this piece of golden lichen," pleaded she. "It
will look so pretty among the green moss, in the cross I am going to
make you for Christmas."

When all her multifarious gleanings were gathered up, they lingered
a little to drink in the beauty of the scene before them. In the
distance was the Eternal City, girdled by hills that stood out with
wonderful distinctness in the luminous atmosphere of that brilliant
day, which threw a golden veil over all its churches, statues, and
ruins. Before they had gone far on their homeward ride, all things
passed through magical changes. The hills were seen in vapory visions,
shifting their hues with opaline glances; and over the green, billowy
surface of the broad Campagna was settling a prismatic robe of mist,
changing from rose to violet. Earth seemed to be writing, in colored
notes, with tenderest modulations, her farewell hymn to the departing
God of Light. And the visible music soon took voice in the vibration
of vesper-bells, in the midst of which they entered Rome. Flora, who
was sobered by the solemn sounds and the darkening landscape, scarcely
spoke, except to remind Mrs. Delano of the tambourine as they drove
through the crowded Corso; and when they entered their lodgings in Via
delle Quattro Fontane, she passed to her room without any of her usual
skipping and singing. When they met again at supper her friend said:
"Why so serious? Is my little one tired?"

"I have been thinking, Mamita, that something is going to happen to
me," she replied; "for always when I am very merry something happens."

"I should think something would happen very often then," rejoined Mrs.
Delano with a smile, to which she responded with her ready little
laugh. "Several visitors called while we were gone," said Mrs. Delano.
"Our rich Boston friend, Mr. Green, has left his card. He follows us
very diligently." She looked at Flora as she spoke; but though the
light from a tall lamp fell directly on her face, she s