She laid them on the bricks of the _loggia_, found a rickety table in Eleanor's room, her travelling-bag, and a shawl.
'Don't take such trouble about me!' said Eleanor, almost piteously, as Lucy established her comfortably in the chair, with a shawl over her knees and a book or two beside her.
Lucy with a soft little laugh stooped and kissed her.
'Now I must go and dry Marie's tears.

Then I shall dive downstairs and discover the kitchen.

They say they've got a cook, and the dinner'll soon be ready.

Isn't that lovely?
And I'm sure the cart'll be here directly.
It's the most beautiful place I ever saw in my life!' said Lucy, clasping her hands a moment in a gesture familiar to her, and turning towards the great prospect of mountain, wood, and river.

'And it's so strange--so strange! It's like another Italy! Why, these woods--they might be just in a part of Maine I know.