Aunt Pattie braced herself once or twice, got out the guide-books and took her visitor into Rome to see the sights.

But the little lady was so frankly worn out by these expeditions, that Lucy, full of compunctions, could only beg to be left to herself in future.

Were not the garden and the lake, the wood-paths to Rocca di Papa, and the roads to Albano good enough?
So presently it came to her spending many hours alone in the terraced garden on the hill-side, with all the golden Campagna at her feet.

Her young fancy, however, soon learnt to look upon that garden as the very concentration and symbol of Italy.

All the Italian elements, the Italian magics were there.