ne scheme of color; the sympathetic look in St. John's face; the
grandly meditative St. Paul.

"I have a theory of my own about the meaning of this picture," said
Bettina. "I thought it out one day when I was studying the photograph. I
know it is always said, in descriptions of it, that all are listening to
the music of the angels, but I do not think any of them save St. Cecilia
hear the music of the angelic choir. She hears it, because she has so
longed for it,--so striven to produce the highest music on earth. But
the others are only moved by their sympathy with her. See the wistful
look on St. John's face, and St. Augustine's also. And St. Paul is lost
in wondering thought at St. Cecilia's emotion. And Mary Magdalene is
asking us to look at her and try to understand her rapt upward look."

"I do not know," said Mr. Sumner, with a soft look in his eyes, "why you
should not have your own private interpretation of the picture, dear
'Lady Betty';" and he smiled at Malcom as he used the latter's favorite
appellation for Bettina.

Chapter XVIII.

In Venice.

_From the land we went
As to a floating city--steering in,
And gliding up her streets as in a dream
By many a pile in more than eastern pride,
Of old the residence of merchant-kings:
The fronts of some, tho' time had shattered them,
Still gleaming with the richest hues of art,
As though the wealth within them had run o'er._

--ROGERS.

[Illustration: SAN MARCO, VENICE.]

Just after sunset the following evening they approached Venice. The long
black train glided along above a sea flushed with purple and crimson and
gold. Like a mirage the fair city--Longfellow's "white water-lily,
cradled and caressed"--arose, lifting her spires--those "filaments of
gold"--above the waters.

"Can it be real?" murmured Bettina. "It seems as if all must fade away
before we reach it."

But in a few minutes the _facchini_ seized their hand-luggage, and they
alighted as at any commonplace railway-station. But oh! the revelation
when they went out upon the platform, up to which, not carriages, but
gondolas were drawn, and from which stretched, not a dusty pavement, but
the same gold and crimson and purple of sky reflected in the waters at
their feet.

"Is it true that we are mortal beings still on the earth, and that we
are seeking merely a hotel?" exclaimed Malcom, as they floated on
between two skies to the music