immortal, immortality has come to them after experience, not before. Here, not only in the solitude of Nature, might a hero meet a goddess, or a heroine a god.

“Charlotte!” cried the girl suddenly. “Here's an idea. What if we popped off to Rome to-morrow — straight to the Vyses' hotel? For I do know what I want. I'm sick of Florence. No, you said you'd go to the ends of the earth! Do! Do!”

Miss Bartlett, with equal vivacity, replied:

“Oh, you droll person! Pray, what would become of your drive in the hills?”

They passed together through the gaunt beauty of the square, laughing over the unpractical suggestion.