218 JiV A WINTER CITY.
" It is a Uttle cold ; but it is very bright,'* said
DeUa Eocca, in some surprise, for the day, indeed,
was magnificent and seasonable. " I was coming
in the hope that I might be admitted, though
I know it is too early, and not your day, and
everything that it ought not to be. But I was
so unfortunate last night; you were so mono*
She deigned to smUe a Uttle, but she continued
to move to her brougham.
" YourcUmate is the very Harpagonof cUmates.
I have not seen one warm day yet. I am thinking
of retm-ning to Paris."
He grew very pale.
"Is not that very sudden?" he asked her;
there was a great change in his voice.
" Oh, no ; I have my house there, as you know,
and Monsieur Odissot is painting the baU-room
in frescoes. I have quite a new idea for my
drawing-rooms, too; after all, furnishing is
one of the fine arts; do you Uke that young
Odissot's talent? His drawing is perfection;
he was a pupU of Hippolyte Flandrin. Good