uty, her gracefulness, and her genius. He told
the Count that it was sufficient to read for her once over a poem of
Petrarch, and she could repeat it word for word. With the same facility
could she compose music for words that struck her fancy. The silvery
sweetness of her voice--her light and graceful step--the power of
expression she possessed by gesture, look, and mien--he went over all
these with a rapture that actually warmed into eloquence, and they who
listened heard him with pleasure, and encouraged him to continue.

'We must see your Marietta,' said the Duchess at last. 'You shall bring
her here.'

Gerald's cheek flushed, but whether with shame, or pride, or
displeasure, or all three commingled, it were hard to say. In truth,
many a hard conflict went on within him, when, out of his dream of
art and its triumphs, he would suddenly awake, and bethink him in
what humble estimation men held such as he was; how closely the world
insisted on associating poverty with meanness; and how hopeless were the
task of him who would try to make himself respected in rags.

As these thoughts arose in his mind, he lifted his eyes once more to
the portrait, and in bitterness of heart he felt how little resemblance
there was in the condition of the youth there represented and himself.

'I see what you are thinking of,' said the Duchess mildly. 'Shall I show
you another picture? It is of one you profess to admire greatly--your
favourite poet.'

'I pray you do, madam. I long to know his features. It is a face I have
painted in fancy often and often.'

'Tell me, then, how you would portray him,' said she, smiling.

'Not regularly handsome; but noble-looking, with the traits of one who
had such vigour of life and mind within, that he lived more for his own
thoughts than the world, and thus would seem proud to sternness. A high,
bold forehead, narrow and indented at the temples, and a deep brow over
two fierce eyes. O! what wildly flashing eyes should Alfieri's be when
stirred by passion and excitement!'

'And should you find him different from all this--a man of milder mould,
more commonplace and less vigorous--will you still maintain that faith
in his genius that now you profess?' said the Count, with slow and quiet
utterance.

'That will I. How could I, in my presumption, doubt the power that has
moved the hearts of thousands?'

'Come, then, and look at him,' said the Duchess, and she arose, and
moved into a room fitted