Read "The Marble Faun, Volume II" by Nathaniel Hawthorne online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Hilda descended, day by day, from her dove-cote, and went to one or another of the great old palaces, -- the Pamfili Doria, the Corsini, the Sciarra, the Borghese, the Colonna, -- where the doorkeepers knew her well, and offered her a kindly greeting. But they shook their heads and sighed, on observing the languid step with which the poor girl toiled up the grand marble staircases. There was no more of that cheery alacrity with which she used to flit upward, as if her doves had lent her their wings, nor of that glow of happy spirits which had been wont to set the tarnished gilding of the picture frames and the shabby splendor of the furniture all a-glimmer, as she hastened to her congenial and delightful toil.
An old German artist, whom she often met in the galleries, once laid a paternal hand on Hilda's head, and bade her go back to her own country.