and yet something so soft and womanly; such graceful gaiety, so much of the brightness, without any of the stiffness, of good breeding, and over it all something so picturesquely simple and southern. She is a perfect Italian. But she comes honestly by it. After the talk I have just jotted down she changed her place, and the conversation for half-an-hour was general. Stanmer indeed said very little; partly, I suppose, because he is shy of talking a foreign tongue. Was I like that—was I so constantly silent? I suspect I was when I was perplexed, and Heaven knows that very often my perplexity was extreme. Before I went away I had a few more words tête-à-tête with the Countess.
"I hope you are not leaving Florence yet," she said; "you will stay a while longer?"
I answered that I came only for a week, and that my week was over.
"I stay on from day to day, I am so much interested."
"Eh, it's the beautiful moment. I'm glad our city pleases you!"
"Florence pleases me—and I take a paternal interest in our young friend," I added, glancing
