story was
well known.

"But to none of those golden-haired maidens who danced at his fete would
he show favor, though upon his birthnight. And when the Lady Beata had
asked him shyly why he wore a white rose in his doublet, he had told her
saucily, 'The meaning of the flower is _silence_.'"

These and other trifles bearing upon the ceremony of the morning were
discussed in pleasant asides, while the report had been read and the
note of approval had been proclaimed to Marcantonio, who dropped the arm
of his friend and came forward to receive it.

"My Lords of the Senate, the Collegio and most Illustrious Ten!" he
responded, with a courtly movement of deference which included them all,
"I thank you! In that it graciously pleaseth you to bestow upon me your
favor for a trifle of designing which was the pastime of an hour, and
made for the pleasure of the giving in homage to the noble Lady Laura
Giustiniani. But the praise of it should not be mine; it is rather to
the stabilimento which hath shown perfection in its workmanship. But
first to him, the master, who hath given it its crowning grace. I pray
you, let me share the unmerited honor of this commendation with Paolo
Cagliari, _detto Veronese_, without whom my little had been nothing!"

The chivalry and grace of the young noble elicited a murmur of
approbation, as he courteously indicated his friend.

The Veronese, to whom this _denouement_ was unexpected, and who had long
since been crowned with highest honors by the Republic, did not move
forward, but, acknowledging the tribute of his pupil with a genial
smile, he stood with folded arms, unembarrassed and commanding, scanning
the faces of the assembly, well pleased with the effect produced by the
words of Marcantonio, whom, at all hazards, he intended to befriend. He
realized that the atmosphere might never be so favorable.

"The crowning grace of that goblet, my Lords of Venice," he said boldly,
"is lent it by the face of the most beautiful maiden it hath ever been
my fortune to paint--than whom Venice hath none more charming."

There was a murmur of surprise from the younger nobles, who were
standing in groups about the hall of the Gran' Consiglio; they had
supposed the face to be merely a dainty conceit of the artist's fancy,
and those nearest gathered about the case with sudden interest.

But the face of Marcantonio betrayed him, while he stood unabashed in
the circle of the senators, though with mounting c