He went away with hope
in his heart.
But Mrs. Vandervelde, watching her closely, thought she was too
open in her regret. N-no, Anne wasn't in love with Hayden--yet. She
picked up her studies, to which he had given impetus, with too
hearty a zest. And when he wrote her amusing, witty, delightful
letters, she was too willing to have Marcia read them.
They remained in Italy six months or so more; and then one day Anne
returned from a picnic, and said to Marcia abruptly:
"Would you mind if I asked you to leave Florence,--if I should want
to go home?"
Marcia said quietly: "No. If you wish to go, we will go. Are you
tired of Italy?"
Anne Champneys looked at her with wide eyes. For a moment she
hesitated, then ran to Marcia, and clung to her with her head
against her friend's shoulder.
"You're so good to me--and I care so much for you,--I'll tell you
the truth," she said in a whisper. "I--I heard something to-day,
Marcia,--_he's_ coming to Rome--soon. And of course he'll come here,
too.
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