The few lines of Cecily's writing which were enclosed, she glanced over with careless eye; yet not with mere carelessness either, but as if something of aversion disinclined her to peruse them attentively.

That sheet she at once laid aside; Reuben's note she still held in her hand, and kept re-reading it.
She went to the window and looked over towards Capri.

A slight mist softened its outlines this morning; it seemed very far away, on the dim borders of sea and sky.

For a long time she had felt the luring charm of that island, always before her eyes, yet never more than a blue mountainous shape.

Lately she had been reading of it, and her fancy, new to such picturings, was possessed by the mysterious dread of its history in old time, the grandeur of its cliffs, the loveliness of its green hollows, and the wonder of its sea-caves.