Miss Thayer was in no mood for bantering. “It is not possible for you to understand without experiencing it yourself,” she said, quietly.
“Or even afterward, I suspect,” Bertha Sinclair added, slyly.
“I am so glad that you enjoyed it,” said Helen. “I couldn’t get much out of Jack, and I was afraid that you had passed a stupid morning and that the headache was the natural result.”
“I shall never forget it—never!” Inez murmured.
Helen regarded her attentively for a moment. “I had no idea it would make so strong an impression on you,” she said at length. “Now that it is over, you and Jack will both feel better satisfied.”
“You must see Cerini, Helen, and let him show you those wonderful books and explain everything, just as he did to us.”
“So I will, sometime,” Helen smiled. “Perhaps he could bring out my dormant possibilities.”
“It is time we dressed for dinner,” remarked Mary Sinclair, rising. “You and Inez are already en grande tenue, but the rest of us are shockingly unconventional.”
As the Sinclair girls hurried into the house, closely followed by the men, Helen leaned against the balustrade at the end of the bowling-green and watched the deepening color which touched alike the spires of Santa Croce and the turret of the Palazzo Vecchio, gleamed on the dome of the Cathedral and Giotto’s tower, and spread like wine over the placid surface of the Arno. Beyond the river rose the basilica of San Miniato, its ancient pediment sharply outlined against the sky. Helen’s thoughts wandered even farther away than her eyes. Inez watched her for several moments before slipping her arm about her waist.
“Oh, Inez!” Helen was startled for an instant. “Did you ever see such a wonderful spot as this?” she continued, recovering herself. “Some new beauty discloses itself uninvited hour by hour. Every time I come into the garden I find some lovely flower I never saw before, or meet some sweet odor which makes me shut my eyes and just draw it in with delight. Each time I look toward Florence the view is different, and each new view more beautiful than the last. Oh, Inez darling, is it an enchanted palace that Jack has brought me to, or is it just because I am so blissfully, supremely, foolishly happy?” Helen embraced her friend enthusiastically.