It was the close of a gusty day in late November when two persons sat watching the early dusk close down upon the outside world. A long line of light still lingered behind the purple hills upon which there stood out a few houses silhouetted against the primrose yellow of the sky. Within the nearer confines of the lawn the leafless trees looked dim and shadowy. The whirl of eddying leaves against the wall sounded ghostly, and the rattling of the vines against the side of the house suggested wintriness. “And in Italy,” murmured the elder of the two women, “it will be all sunshine and light.”…
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