l wooden box
containing a little turtle on a salad-leaf in the other; the poor
animals are sold in the Piazza at Venice for souvenirs of the city, and
people often carry them away. Elmore took the offerings simply, as he
took everything in life, and interpreted them as an expression, however
odd, of Mr. Andersen's sympathy with his recent sufferings, of which he
gave him some account; but he practised a decent self-denial, here, and
they were already talking of the weather when the ladies appeared. He
hastened to exhibit the tokens of Mr. Andersen's kind remembrance, and
was mystified by the young man's confusion, and the impatient, almost
contemptuous, air with which his wife listened to him. Hoskins came in
at that moment to ask about Elmore's health, and showed the hostile
civility to Andersen which young men use toward each other in the
presence of ladies; and then, seeing that the latter had secured the
place at Miss Mayhew's side on the sofa, he limped to the easy chair
near Mrs. Elmore, and fell into talk with her about Rose-Black's
pictures, which he had just seen. They were based upon an endeavor to
trace the moral principles believed by Mr. Ruskin to underlie Venetian
art, and they were very queer, so Hoskins said; he roughly sketched an
idea of some of them on a block he took from his pocket.

Mr. Andersen and Lily went out upon one of the high-railed balconies
that overhung the canal, and stood there, with their backs to the
others. She seemed to be listening, with averted face, while he, with
his cheek leaning upon one hand and his elbow resting on the balcony
rail, kept a pensive attitude after they had apparently ceased to speak.
Something in their pose struck the sculptor's fancy, and he made a hasty
sketch of them, and was showing it to the Elmores when Lily suddenly
descended into the room again, and, saying something about its being
quite dark, went out, and left Mr. Andersen to make his adieux to the
others. He startled them by saying that he was to set off for India in
the morning, and he went away very melancholy.

"Well, I don't know," said Hoskins, thoughtfully retouching his sketch,
"that I should feel very lively about going out to India myself."

"He seems to be a very affectionate young fellow," observed Elmore, "and
I've no doubt he will feel the separation from his friends. But I really
don't know why he should have brought me a bouquet, and a small turtle
in a box, on the eve of his depa