It was the Switzerland of her dreams, reinforced and
complemented by unsuspected detail.
One trouble alone disturbed her peace of mind upon that delightful
journey. Alan entered their names at all the hotels where they
stopped as "Mr. and Mrs. Alan Merrick of London." That deception,
as Herminia held it, cost her many qualms of conscience; but Alan,
with masculine common-sense, was firm upon the point that no other
description was practically possible; and Herminia yielded with a
sign to his greater worldly wisdom. She had yet to learn the
lesson which sooner or later comes home to all the small minority
who care a pin about righteousness, that in a world like our own,
it is impossible for the righteous always to act consistently up to
their most sacred convictions.
At Milan, they stopped long enough to snatch a glimpse of the
cathedral, and to take a hasty walk through the pictured glories of
the Brera. A vague suspicion began to cross Herminia's mind, as she
gazed at the girlish Madonna of the Sposalizio, that perhaps she
wasn't quite as well adapted to love Italy as Switzerland.
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