when Father Rocco was sent
for, and was not to be found, he suspected the priest of being at the
bottom of the business. I never saw a man in such a fury of despair
and rage before. He swore that he would have all Italy searched for the
girl, that he would be the death of the priest, and that he would never
enter Luca Lomi's studio again--"

"And, as to this last particular, of course, being a man, he failed to
keep his word?"

"Of course. At that first visit of mine to the studio I discovered two
things. The first, as I said, that Fabio was really in love with the
girl--the second, that Maddalena Lomi was really in love with him. You
may suppose I looked at her attentively while the disturbance was going
on, and while nobody's notice was directed on me. All women are vain,
I know, but vanity never blinded my eyes. I saw directly that I had but
one superiority over her--my figure. She was my height, but not well
made. She had hair as dark and as glossy as mine; eyes as bright and
as black as mine; and the rest of her face better than mine. My nose is
coarse, my lips are too thick, and my upper lip overhangs my under too
far. She had none of those personal faults; and, as for capacity, she
managed the young fool in his passion as well as I could have managed
him in her place."

"How?"

"She stood silent, with downcast eyes and a distressed look, all the
time he was raving up and down the studio. She must have hated the girl,
and been rejoiced at her disappearance; but she never showed it. 'You
would be an awkward rival' (I thought to myself), 'even to a handsomer
woman than I am.' However, I determined not to despair too soon, and
made up my mind to follow my plan just as if the accident of the girl's
disappearance had never occurred. I smoothed down the master-sculptor
easily enough--flattering him about his reputation, assuring him that
the works of Luca Lomi had been the objects of my adoration since
childhood, telling him that I had heard of his difficulty in finding a
model to complete his Minerva from, and offering myself (if he thought
me worthy) for the honor--laying great stress on that word--for the
honor of sitting to him. I don't know whether he was altogether deceived
by what I told him; but he was sharp enough to see that I really could
be of use, and he accepted my offer with a profusion of compliments.
We parted, having arranged that I was to give him a first sitting in a
week's time."

"Why put it