to America, and had he liked
the place, he might have taken up his abode there. It affected him like
vinegar dropped in a wound, like street din heard from a hospital bed.
He turned back, and the long stairs to his empty dwelling were dear and
sweet to him on the day of his return.

This, then, had remained his home. His needs were simple, and he could
live without applying himself to uncongenial work, though the allowance
had been stopped, and the income, as Leslie had said, was incredibly
small. The good Giovanna, who had been his mother's servant, stayed on
with her _signorino_, and economized for him; the wages of an
Italian servant were in those days no extravagance. He had no pleasures
that cost money; he neither traveled nor went to fine restaurants. He
wore neat, old well-brushed clothes, went afoot, gave to the poor single
coppers. But he had liberty, worked when he pleased and as he pleased;
he was content to be poor, so long as his poverty did not reach the
point where it involves cutting a poor figure. Giovanna, prouder than
her master, disliked the thought of _far cattiva figura_ even more
than did he, and was careful in her household management to keep up a
certain style, never forgetting the sprig of parsley on the platter
beside the single _braciolina_.

At one period he had contemplated a change in his mode of living, had
dreamed of entering the contest for laurels and gold, so as to afford a
more appropriate setting for the beauty of his charmer. The Charmer had
attained without need of him the setting she craved, and Gerald went on
climbing his long stairs, painting in his so personal and unpopular way,
and at night reading by light of a solitary lamp the choice and subtle
masterpieces of many literatures.

* * * * *

"My land! shall we _ever_ get to the top?" whispered Aurora to
Estelle as, one behind the other, sliding their hands along the wall,
they felt with their feet for the steps that led to Gerald's door. "He
told us they were long, and he warned us they were dark, but this!... I
wonder why they don't have a lamp going, or something."

"Because there isn't any image of the Virgin," said Estelle, lightly.
"It's our just having come in from the sunshine makes it seem dark. It's
getting lighter. Cheer up! It's good for you."

"It'll make me lose three pounds, I shouldn't wonder."

They spoke in whispers, because when they had pulled the bell-knob