Nina looked up, and seemed to give a glance that implied assent.
“Nelly would be so happy here, wandering through these galleries, and sitting for hours long in those beautiful churches, surrounded with all that can elevate feeling or warm imagination; she, too, would know how to profit by these treasures of art. The frivolous enjoyments that please me would be beneath her. Perhaps she would teach me better things; perhaps I might turn from mere sensual pleasure to higher and purer sources of happiness.”
“Will Mademoiselle permit me to try this wreath?” said Nina, advancing with a garland of white roses, which she gracefully placed around Kate's head.
A half cry of delight burst from Kate as she saw the effect in the glass.
“Beautiful, indeed!” said Nina, as though in concurrence with an unspoken emotion.
“But, Nina, I scarcely like this it seems as though I cannot tell what I wish as though I would desire notice I, that am nothing that ought to pass unobserved.”
“You, Mademoiselle,” cried Nina, and for the first time a slight warmth coloring the tone of her manner, “you, Mademoiselle, the belle, the beauty, the acknowledged beauty of Florence!”
“Nina! Nina!” cried Kate rebukingly.
“I hope Mademoiselle will forgive me. I would not for the world fail in my respect,” said Nina, with deep humility; “but I was only repeating what others spoke.”
“I am not angry, Nina, at least, not with you,” said Kate, hurriedly. “With myself, indeed, I 'm scarcely quite pleased. But who could have said such a silly thing?”