It was chilly, Novemberish, and within the doors of Florentine domiciles rather colder, for some reason, than in the open air. The Fosses kept their house at a more human temperature than most people, but yet after years of Italy did not heat very thoroughly: one drops into the way of doing as others do, and grows accustomed to putting up with cold in winter. Leslie often expressed the opinion that in America people really exaggerate in the matter of heating their houses. Nevertheless, just for the joy of the eyes and, through the eyes, of the depressed spirit, she was glad to-day of the big fire dancing and crackling in Aurora's chimney-place. The upstairs sitting-room, where the ladies generally sat, might look rather like a day nursery; yet after one had accepted it, with its chintz of big red flowers and green foliage, its rich strawberry rug and new gold picture-frames, it did seem to brighten one's mood. How think grayly amid that dazzle and glow any more than feel cold before that fire? Leslie held her hands to the blaze, and with an amiable display of interest inquired of their affairs, the progress made in "getting settled." There was still a good deal to do of a minor sort. Accounts were given her in a merry duet; purchases were shown; she was told all that had happened since they last saw her, who had called, whom they had been to see. Casting about in her mind for further things to communicate, Aurora was reminded of a small grievance. "I thought your friend Mr. Fane was going to come and take us sight-seeing," she said. "Was it so arranged?" "So I supposed." "And he hasn't been?" "Hide nor hair of him have we seen." "I meant, hasn't he perhaps called while you were out?" "He hasn't." "Strange. It's not like him to be rude. But, then, he's not like himself these days. You must excuse him." "What's the matter with him? Isn't he well?" "He's not ill in the usual sense. If he were, we should make him have a doctor and hope to see him cured. It's worse than an illness. He is blue--chronically blue." "Why?" "Oh, he has reasons. But the same reasons, of course, would not have made a person of a different temperament change as he has changed." "I don't suppose you want to tell us what the reasons are?" Very tentatively this was said. "Why ... ordinarily one would not feel free to do so, but you are sure to hear about it before you have been here long. In Florence, you know, everybody knows everything about everybody else. Not always the truth, but in any case an interesting version. Oh, it behooves one to be careful in Florence if one doesn't wish one's affairs known and talked about. But in the case of Gerald there was nothing secret. Everybody knows him, everybody knew when he was engaged to Violet Van Zandt, everybody knows that she married some one else." "Oh, the poor boy!"