There isn't.

Our cerulean is very beautifully blue, but in Italy one discovers by contrast that it is an intellectual blue, filled with light, high, provocative.

The sky that bends over Tuscany is the very soul of blue, deep, soft, intense, impenetrable--the sky that one sees in those little casual bits of landscape behind the shoulders of pre-Raphaelite Saints and Madonnas; and here and there a lake, giving it back with delight, and now and then the long slope of a hill, with an old yellow-walled town creeping up, castle crowned, and raggedly trimmed with olives; and so many ruins that the Senator, summoned by momma to look at the last in view, regarded it with disparagement, which he did not attempt to conceal.

He wondered, he said, that the Italian Government wasn't ashamed of having such a lot of them.

They might be picturesque, but they weren't creditable; they gave you the impression that the country was on the down grade.