e inner feelings of each were very sacred to
the other, and she must wait until he should choose to reveal all to
her.

She well knew that his heart had been wholly consecrated to the only
love it had heretofore known, and the query had often arisen in her mind
whether the approach of another affection might not in the first place
work some unhappiness. That he could ever love again as he had loved
Margaret she did not for a moment believe. She well knew, however, that
the happiness of any woman who might give her life into her brother's
keeping was safe, and her wish for him was that he might be so drawn
toward some loving woman that he might desire to make her his wife, and
so be blessed with family life and love; for the thought that he might
live lonely, without family ties, was inexpressibly sad to her loving
heart.

We have seen how the coming of Miss Sherman into their lives roused
these hopes afresh; and she now wondered if his evident unrest might be
caused by the first suggestion of the thought of asking her to become
his wife. It was evident that he admired her and enjoyed her society;
and, so far as Miss Sherman's feelings were concerned, she felt no
doubt. Indeed, she sometimes shrank a bit from the free display of her
fondness for his company, and hoped that Malcom and the girls might not
notice it. She easily excused it, however, to herself, although the
closer intimacy of daily intercourse was revealing, little by little,
flaws in the character she had thought so fair.

How utterly mistaken was Mrs. Douglas! and how shocked would Lucile
Sherman have been this very morning could she have known how strong a
longing leaped into Robert Sumner's heart to take into his hungry arms
that graceful figure in worn brown suit, with brave, smiling young face
and steadfast eyes, put her into his carriage, and drive
away,--anywhere,--so it only were away and away!

Or, how stern a grip he imposed on himself as he took his seat beside
her dimpling, chattering self, radiant with fresh colors and graceful
draperies.

Or, of the tumult of his thoughts as they drove along through the narrow
streets, across the yellow Tiber and up to the stately entrance of St.
Peter's.

Chapter XIV.

A Visit to the Sistine Chapel.

_Deep love lieth under
These pictures of time;
They fade in the light of
Their meaning sublime._

--EMERSON.

[Illustration: ST. PETER'S AND CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO, ROM