Laurie obediently threw himself down on the turf, and began to amuse himself by sticking daisies into the ribbons of Amy's hat, that lay there.
"I'm all ready for the secrets;" and he glanced up with a decided expression of interest in his eyes.
"I've none to tell; you may begin."
"Haven't one to bless myself with. I thought perhaps you'd had some news from home."
"You have heard all that has come lately. Don't you hear often? I fancied Jo would send you volumes."
"She's very busy; I'm roving about so, it's impossible to be regular, you know. When do you begin your great work of art, Raphaella?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly after another pause, in which he had been wondering if Amy knew his secret, and wanted to talk about it.
"Never," she answered, with a despondent but decided air. "Rome took all the vanity out of me; for after seeing the wonders there, I felt too insignificant to live, and gave up all my foolish hopes in despair."
"Why should you, with so much energy and talent?"