ana's face is so noble, and her glance so tenderly
earnest, that it would surely rouse him if he were not dead."

"Dead!" returned Arthur; "why you know he is only sleeping."

"No, no," said Lawrence, gently, "dead; utterly dead--to her. If he were
not, it would be simply impossible not to awake and love her. Who's that
old gentleman on the wall over there?"

Lawrence Newt asked the same question of all the portraits so
persistently that Arthur could not return to his Diana. When he had
satisfied his curiosity--a curiosity which he had never shown before--the
merchant rose and said good-by.

"Stop, stop!"

Lawrence Newt turned, with his hand upon the door.

"You like my picture--"

"Immensely. But if she looks forever she'll never waken him. Poor
Endymion! he's dead to all that heavenly splendor."

He was about closing the door.

"Hallo!" cried Arthur.

Lawrence Newt put his head into the room.

"It's fortunate that he's dead!" said the painter.

"Why so?"

"Because goddesses never marry."

Lawrence Newt's head disappeared.

CHAPTER LXIV.

DIANA.

"Good-morning, Miss Hope."

"Good-morning, Mr. Merlin."

He bowed and seated himself, and the conversation seemed to have
terminated. Hope Wayne was embroidering. The moment she perceived that
there was silence she found it very hard to break it.

"Are you busy now?" said she.

"Very busy."

"As long as men and women are vain, so long your profession will
flourish, I suppose," she replied, lifting her eyes and smiling.

"I like it because it tells the truth," replied Arthur, crushing his hat.

"It omitted Alexander's wry neck," said Hope.

"It put in Cromwell's pimple," answered Arthur.

They both smiled.

"However, that is not the kind of truth I mean--I mean poetic truth.
Michael Angelo's Last Judgment shows the whole Catholic Church."

Hope Wayne felt relieved, and looked interested. She did not feel so
much afraid of the silence, now that Arthur seemed entering upon a
disquisition. But he stopped and said,

"I've painted a picture."

"Full of poetic truth, I suppose," rejoined Hope, still smiling.

"I've come to ask you to go and see that for yourself."

"Now?"

"Now."

She laid aside her embroidery, and in a little while they had reached his
studio. As Hope Wayne entered she was impressed by the spaciousness of
the room, the chastened light, and the coruscations of rich color hanging
upon the walls.

"It's like the