The question as to the best thing to do for the remainder of the year
was often talked over by Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Sumner. Barbara, Bettina,
Malcom, and Margery were so interested in their art study that it was
finally thought best to travel in such a way that this could be
continued to advantage, and they were now thinking of leaving Florence
for Rome.

There had been one source of anxiety for some time, and that was the
condition of Howard's health. Instead of gain there seemed to be a
continual slow loss of strength that was perceptible especially to Mrs.
Douglas. He had recently won her sincere respect by the manful way in
which he had struggled to conceal his love for Barbara. So well did he
succeed that Malcom thought he must have been mistaken in his
conjecture, and the girls were as unconscious as ever. In Bettina's and
Margery's thought, he was especially Barbara's friend, but in no other
way than Malcom was Bettina's; while Barbara was happier than she had
been in a long time, as he showed less and less frequently signs of
nervous irritability and hurt feelings whenever she disappointed him in
any way, as of course she often could not help doing.

"Howard ought not to have spent the winter here in the cold winds of
Florence," Mrs. Douglas often had said to her brother. "But what could
we do?"

They were thinking of hastening their departure for Rome on his account,
when one morning his servant came to the house in great alarm, to beg
Mrs. Douglas to go to his young master at once.

"He is very ill," he said, "and asks for you continually."