He thought that the Shadow and I were to be soon acquainted, when he saw me first! 'I hope that Edward will get as much inspiration from the hills as from Rome.

Every little change makes me anxious.

Why should we change?
Dear beloved, golden Rome!--even to be going fourteen miles away from you somehow tears my heart.' * * * * * Yes, there they were, those entries,--mocking, ineffaceable, for ever.
As she had read them, driving through all the memories they suggested, like a keen and bitter wind that kills and blights the spring bloom, there had pressed upon her the last memory of all,--the memory of this forlorn, this intolerable day.

Had Manisty ever yet forgotten her so completely--abandoned her so utterly?
She had simply dropped out of his thoughts.

She had become as much of a stranger to him again, as on her first arrival at Rome.