ait of grouty old Biagio attracts more
attention than any other of the nearly three hundred figures in the
picture."

"I don't wonder, for I want to see it too," said Malcom, laughing.

They talked also of Vittoria Colonna, at whose home and in whose
companionship the lonely master found all his happiness, especially
during these years of toil. The girls were much interested in her, and
Mr. Sumner said he would take them to visit the Colonna Palace, where,
among other pictures, they would find a portrait of this noble woman,
who was so famous in the literary life of her time.

* * * * *

One morning, not long after, Malcom brought a handful of letters from
the banker's, among which several fell to Barbara and Bettina.

After opening two or three of his own, Mr. Sumner looked up and said:--

"I have here a letter dictated by Howard's grandmother. It contains only
a few words, which were written evidently by some friend, who adds that
the poor old lady is greatly prostrated, and it is feared will never
recover from the shock of his death."

"Poor woman! I wish it might have come less suddenly to her," replied
Mrs. Douglas, in a sympathetic voice.

After a little silence, during which all were busy with their letters,
a low cry burst from Barbara's lips.

Startled, all looked up to find her, pale as death, staring at a sheet
clutched in her hand, while Bettina had sunk on her knees with her arms
about her sister's waist.

"What is it? oh! what is it?" cried they.

Barbara found just voice enough to say: "No bad news from home," and
then appealingly held her letter toward Mr. Sumner.

"Shall I read it?" and as she bowed assent, he hastily scanned the
contents.

"Howard left a large portion of his money to Barbara," he said briefly,
in response to the inquiring eyes, and handed the letter back to the
agitated girl, who, with Bettina, sought their own room.

Then he added, striving to keep his voice calm and natural: "It seems
that the very day before he was taken ill, Howard went to a lawyer in
Florence and made a codicil to his will, in which he grouped several
bequests heretofore given, into one large one, which he gave to Barbara.
This he at once sent to his lawyer in Boston, who has now written to
Barbara."

"This is what poor Howard tried so hard to tell me at the last," said
Mrs. Douglas. "He began two or three times, but did not have the
strength to continue. I suspect