"you seem out of spirits, my dear friend," he observed."this languid roman atmosphere is not the airy wine that you were accustomed to breathe at home.i have not forgotten your hospitable invitation to meet you this summer at your castle among the apennines. it is my fixedpurpose to come, i assure you.we shall both be the better for some deep draughts of the mountain breezes.""it may he," said donatello, with unwonted sombreness; "the old house seemed joyous when i was a child.but as i remember it now it was a grim place, too."the sculptor looked more attentively at the young man, and was surprised and alarmed to observe how entirely the fine, fresh glow of animal spirits had departed out of his face.hitherto, moreover, even while he was standing perfectly still, there had been a kind of possible gambol indicated in his aspect.it was quite gone now.all his youthful gayety, and with it his simplicity of manner, was eclipsed, if not utterly extinct.
"you are surely ill, my dear fellow," exclaimed kenyon.