“I may have to go home soon. My sister is ill with pneumonia, and my mother is so upset about it. I am very sorry to go,” she added after a pause. “I should have liked to stay for the spring at least.” She sat down to her needlework. He wondered in his mind if it was Heggen—he had never been able to find out if there was an understanding between them. For the present, Heggen, who was said to be rather impressionable generally, was very much attached to a young Danish nurse staying in Rome with an elderly lady. It seemed so strange that she should blush; it was not like her. Francesca came in that evening before he left. He had not seen her much since Christmas Eve, but enough to understand that he was quite indifferent to her. She was never in a temper, or childishly impetuous; she went about as if she did not see anybody, her mind completely absorbed by something or other. At times she seemed almost to walk in a trance. He saw a great deal of Jenny; he went to the _trattoria_ where she used to have her meals, and also to her rooms. He scarcely knew why, but he felt he wanted to see her. One afternoon Jenny went into Francesca’s room to look for some turpentine. Francesca always took whatever she needed from Jenny’s belongings, but she never put the things back. Cesca was lying on the bed sobbing, with her head deep in the pillow. Jenny had not heard her come in. “My dear, what is the matter? Are you ill?” “No, but please go away, Jenny, do! I won’t tell you; you’ll only say it’s my own fault.” Jenny understood it was no good talking to her when she was in that state, but at tea-time she knocked at her door. Cesca thanked her, but did not want any tea. That night, when Jenny was reading in bed, Cesca suddenly came into the room in her nightdress. Her eyes were red and swollen with crying. “May I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone.” Jenny made room for her. She did not like the idea of sharing her bed, but Cesca used to come when she was very unhappy and ask to be allowed to sleep with her. “Go on reading, Jenny; I won’t disturb you. I shall lie very still here by the wall.” Jenny pretended to read for some time. Now and then a sigh like a sob was heard from Francesca. “Shall I put out the lamp, or would you like it burning?” Jenny asked. “No, put it out, please.”