Meantime, Miss Rochester’s trousseau should be ordered from Worth’s, and everything arranged to make the affair as brilliant as the wealth and position of the parties seemed to demand. Strange to relate, however, now that the matter was settled, Miss Rochester herself suddenly became very averse to any reference to it. She grew moody and depressed, was exceedingly impatient and irritable, and often, Mrs. Rochester, coming upon her unawares, would find her in tears for which she would give no explanation. Norman Winthrop was also very unlike himself. Heretofore, he had always been a delightful escort in travelling, always attending faithfully to the comfort of his party, and keeping them happy and jolly with his never-failing spirits. But now he was a mere automaton, without one particle of that cheerfulness and good-fellowship which had hitherto characterized him. He rarely spoke unless he was addressed, except to attend to necessary business, and although his mother tried her best to ascertain the cause of this change in him, he baffled all her efforts, and kept his own secret. When in the presence of others he was always courteous to Miss Rochester, and showed her all the attention that etiquette demanded, but if by any chance they were left alone, he never addressed her, nor took the slightest notice of her. They journeyed very leisurely, taking in all points of interest along their route, and finally reaching Rome, about the middle of November, took a suite of apartments in the Via Nazionale, where they settled themselves comfortably, and even luxuriously, for the winter. CHAPTER XXXIX. SISTER ANGELA AGAIN. During all this time Dr. Winthrop was very busy. He was making a special study of diseases of the eye, ear, and brain, besides attending to some regular duties in one of the hospitals. He courted labor, study, excitement—anything, in fact that would help him to drown his own troubles, and keep him from thinking of the past. Meantime, Salome was trying to bear with what patience and fortitude she could, her cruel incarceration and the sad sights which daily came under her observation, while she strove to do what she was able to mitigate the wretched condition of many of her companions. One wet, dreary afternoon, when thick clouds obscured the sky and a cold rain beat sharply against the windows of the ward, which was unusually dark and gloomy, Salome gathered the restless inmates of the room beneath the rotunda, and tried to cheer and enliven them by relating an interesting story. Her heart had been unusually heavy all day, she was very sad from hope long deferred, and she felt that she must do something to effectually distract her thoughts from herself and her hard lot.