all this an architectonic fugue,--a pure and lofty
meditation--"

"Now, do give us a rest, Jack," interrupted Vincent mercilessly. "I
thought you said something about a nymph or a goddess. Trot her out,
if you please, and let me have a look at her."

Cranbrook turned sharply about and gave his comrade a look of
undisguised disgust.

"Harry," he said gravely, "really you don't deserve the good fortune
of being in Italy. I thought I knew you well; but I am afraid I shall
have to revise my judgment of you. You are hopelessly and incorrigibly
frivolous. I know, it is ungracious in me to tell you so,--I, who have
accepted your bounty; but, by Jove, Harry, I don't want to buy my
pleasure at the price you seem to demand. I have enough to get home,
at all events, and I shall repay you what I owe you."

Vincent colored to the edge of his hair; he bit his lip, and was about
to yield to the first impulse of his wrath. A moment's reflection,
however, sobered him; he gave his leg two energetic cuts with his
slender cane, then turned slowly on his heel and sauntered away.
Cranbrook stood long gazing sadly after him; he would have liked to
call him back, but the aimless, leisurely gait irritated him, and the
word died on his lips. Every step seemed to hint a vague defiance.
"What does it matter to me," it seemed to say, "what you think of me?
You are of too little account to have the power to ruffle my temper."
As the last echo of the retiring footsteps was lost in the great
marble silence, Cranbrook heaved a sigh, and, suddenly remembering his
errand, walked rapidly down the corridor. He paused before a
round-arched, doorless portal, which led into a large sunny room. In
the embrazure of one of the windows, a young girl was sitting, with a
drawing-board in her lap, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of
a marble relief which was suspended upon the wall. From where
Cranbrook stood, he could see her noble profile clearly outlined
against the white wall; a thick coil of black hair was wound about the
back of her head, and a dark, tight-fitting dress fell in simple folds
about her magnificent form. There was a simplicity and an unstudied
grace in her attitude which appealed directly to Cranbrook's aesthetic
nature. Ever since he entered Italy he had been on the alert for
romantic impressions, and his eager fancy instinctively lifted every
commonplace incident that appeared to have poetic possibilities in it
into the region of r