habitual cordiality at parting, and she even kissed Aurora coldly on the
forehead, and embraced Maddalena with something like her usual
affection. The two looked back as they drove away, calling out a last
good-bye, but they saw that the Signora was not even looking after them;
she was leaning against one of the wooden supports of the verandah,
gazing towards the trees, and pressing one hand to her forehead.

"Do you think it was my fault, mamma?" asked Aurora, when they were out
of sight of the cottage.

"No, dear," answered Maddalena. "Something has happened, I wish I knew
what!"

"I only told him he was a baby," said Aurora, settling herself in the
corner of the carriage, and arranging her parasol behind her so that it
rested on the open hood; for the weather had cleared and the sun was
shining brightly after the storm.

So she and her mother went back to Rome that afternoon. But when the
Signora was alone, she was sorry that her friend was gone, and was all
at once aware that her head was aching terribly. Every movement she made
sent an agonizing thrill through her brain, and her hand trembled from
the pain, as she pressed her palm to her forehead.

She meant to go down to the beach alone, for she was sure that she could
find Marcello, and at least she would meet the men who were searching
for him, and have news sooner than if she stayed in the cottage. But she
could not have walked fifty steps without fainting while her headache
lasted. She would take five grains of phenacetine, and in a little while
she would be better.