To her eyes, the change in aspect and expression, visible through all the elegance and care of dress, was already terrible.
Oh! why had she come to Rome?
What had changed the world so?
Some wounded writhing thing seemed to be struggling in her own breast--while she was holding it down, trying to thrust it out of sight and hearing.
She had written to Uncle Ben, and to the Porters.

To-morrow she must break it to Aunt Pattie that she could not go to Vallombrosa, and must hurry back to England.

The girl's pure conscience was tortured already by the thought of the excuses she would have to invent.

And not a word, till Mr.Manisty was safely started on his way to that function at the Vatican which he was already grumbling over, which he would certainly shirk if he could.

But, thank Heaven, it was not possible for him to shirk it.
Again her eyes crossed those of Manisty.