ffolding were not less familiar to him.

"Helen!" he cried. "What brings you here?" and running down the steps,
he was by her side in a moment.

Never had he seen her look so charming. A rose on her cheek with the
air and exercise--her dark hair blown back in slight disorder under her
little hat; her eyes radiant with gaiety, a crimson handkerchief
loosely tied about her throat, and on her arm, a basket carefully
closed.

"No, no;" she said, as Walter attempted to take it from her; "that is
to come afterwards, and is only to be considered as an appendix to my
real mission. So first of all I must deliver myself of that: know
therefore, Claude Lorraine and his temple and his sunrise are all to be
thrown over, and your laudable labours of the morning wasted. It will
all have to be rubbed out and done over again. The Burgermeister has
just sent to say that he has other projects wherewith to astonish the
weak minds of his admiring friends. They are to have Naples and the
Mediterranean above their heads, and Vesuvius spouting lava over them.
Of coarse the Meister was indignant at any man's presuming to meddle
with his business; but you know his worship has his peculiar ideas
about the fine arts, and a not so peculiar intolerance of
contradiction. And then a most impudent letter from Peter Lars came to
make the measure full; and this shock seems to have fallen on the
Meister's limbs, so that he is quite unable to walk, or to come himself
to look after you, as he proposed; so I said I would come instead, and
tell you what I could--and, to-night, he will tell you the rest.

"So there is a truce for you, meanwhile; that is, as far as regards the
ceiling. But I don't see, young sir, that you have been so very busy
all this time--one or two of those Cupids I see over there have
scarcely a leg to stand on, and there are many gaps among the shells
and wreaths."

While her bright eyes were roving over the walls, he stood mute before
her, lost in contemplation.

"You are not communicative this morning; I rather think curiosity
concerning the contents of my little basket must have struck you dumb.
Know then, that my sense of my maternal duties was too strong to let me
set out on my diplomatic mission without having made a previous raid
into the store-room; for though art may profess to live on bread and
water, I never saw that it had any particular objection to meat and
wine. And as I don't deny that my walk has made me hungry, w