fruits of the season became a temptation to her palate; she liked to
see shops and stalls overflowing with the vineyard's delicious growth.

She knew for the first time the seduction of books. From what
unutterable weariness had she been saved when she assented to Eleanor's
proposal and began to learn Italian! First there was the fear lest she
should prove slow at acquiring, suffer yet another fall from her
dignity; but this apprehension was soon removed. She had a brain, and
could use it; Eleanor's praise fell upon her ears delightfully. Then
there was that little volume of English verse which Eleanor left on the
table; its name, "The Golden Treasury," made her imagine it of a
religious tone; she was undeceived in glancing through it. Poetry had
hitherto made no appeal to her; she did not care much for the little
book. But one day Cecily caught it up in delight, and read to her for
half an hour; she affected indifference, but had in reality learnt
something, and thereafter read for herself.

The two large mirrors in her room had, oddly enough, no unimportant
part among the agencies working for her development. It was almost
inevitable that, in moving about, she should frequently regard her own
figure. From being something of an annoyance, this necessity at length
won attractiveness, till she gazed at herself far oftener than she need
have done. As for her face she believed it pas sable, perhaps rather
more than that; but the attire that had possessed distinction at
Bartles looked very plain, to say the least, in the light of her new
experience. One day she saw herself standing side by side with Cecily,
and her eyes quickly turned away.

To what was she sinking!

But Dante lay unopened, together with the English books. Miriam had
spent a day or two of alternate languor and irritableness, unable to
attend to anything serious. Just now she had in her hand Cecily's
letter, the letter which told of what had happened. There was no reason
for referring to it again; this afternoon Cecily herself had been here.
But Miriam read over the pages, and dwelt upon them.

At dinner, no remark was made on the subject that occupied the minds of
all three. Afterwards they sat together, as usual, and Eleanor played.
In one of the silences, Miriam turned to Spence and asked him if he had
seen Mr. Mallard.

"Yes; I found him after a good deal of going about," replied the other,
glad to have done with artificial disregard of the subje