conduct of the Right clique of the studio. Ginevra, much the ablest of
Servin's pupils, was an object of intense jealousy. The master testified
as much admiration for the talents as for the character of his favorite
pupil, who served as a conclusion to all his comparisons. In fact,
without any one being able to explain the ascendancy which this young
girl obtained over all who came in contact with her, she exercised over
the little world around her a prestige not unlike that of Bonaparte upon
his soldiers.

The aristocracy of the studio had for some days past resolved upon the
fall of this queen, but no one had, as yet, ventured to openly avoid
the Bonapartist. Mademoiselle Thirion's act was, therefore, a decisive
stroke, intended by her to force the others into becoming, openly, the
accomplices of her hatred. Though Ginevra was sincerely loved by several
of these royalists, nearly all of whom were indoctrinated at home with
their political ideas, they decided, with the tactics peculiar to women,
that they should do best to keep themselves aloof from the quarrel.

On Ginevra's arrival she was received, as we have said, in profound
silence. Of all the young women who had, so far, come to Servin's
studio, she was the handsomest, the tallest, and the best made. Her
carriage and demeanor had a character of nobility and grace which
commanded respect. Her face, instinct with intelligence, seemed to
radiate light, so inspired was it with the enthusiasm peculiar to
Corsicans,--which does not, however, preclude calmness. Her long hair
and her black eyes and lashes expressed passion; the corners of her
mouth, too softly defined, and the lips, a trifle too marked, gave signs
of that kindliness which strong beings derive from the consciousness of
their strength.

By a singular caprice of nature, the charm of her face was, in some
degree, contradicted by a marble forehead, on which lay an almost
savage pride, and from which seemed to emanate the moral instincts of a
Corsican. In that was the only link between herself and her native
land. All the rest of her person, her simplicity, the easy grace of her
Lombard beauty, was so seductive that it was difficult for those who
looked at her to give her pain. She inspired such keen attraction that
her old father caused her, as matter of precaution, to be accompanied to
and from the studio. The only defect of this truly poetic creature came
from the very power of a beauty so fully develop