e man she loved. He had this haughty
spirit--he could have lived in those days--and she saw him a Doria, a
Brignole-Sale or a Pallavicini, gorgeous, masterful and magnificent.
England in the present day was surely a _supplice_ for such an arrogant
spirit as that of John Derringham.

The prosperous mercantile part of Genoa said nothing to her--she wanted
always to wander where she could weave romances into the things round.
She had never seen any fine pictures before. The Anderton family were
not lovers of art and, while in London, Halcyone had been too unhappy to
care or even ask to be taken to galleries--and Cheiron had not suggested
doing so; he was a good deal occupied himself. But now it was a great
pleasure to him to watch and see what impression they would make upon a
perfectly fresh eye. The immense cultivation of her mind would guide her
taste probably--but it would be an interesting experiment.

She stopped instantly in front of a Van Dyck, but she did not speak. In
fact she made no observations at all about the pictures until they were
back in their hotel. It was still very hot, although September had come,
and they had their dinner upon an open terrace.

And then her thoughts came out.

"I like the Guido Renis, Cheiron," she said; "his Magdalen in the Reale
Palazzo is exquisite--she is pure and good. But I do not like the saints
and martyrs in the throes of their agony, they say nothing to me, I have
no sympathy for them. I adore the Madonna and the Child; they touch
me--here," and she laid her hand upon her heart. "The Sassoferarto
Virgin in the Reale Palazzo is like Miss Lutworth, she is full of
kindness and youth. The early masters' works, which are badly drawn and
beautifully colored, I have to take apart--and it is unsatisfying.
Because, while I am trying not to see the wrong shape, I have only half
my faculties to appreciate the exquisite colors, and so a third
influence has to come in--the meaning of the artist who painted them and
perhaps put into them his soul. But that is altruistic--I could as well
admire something of very bad art for the same reason. For me a picture
should satisfy each of these points of view to be perfect and lift me
into heights. That is why perhaps I shall prefer sculpture on the whole,
when I shall have seen it, to painting."

And Mr. Carlyon felt that, learned in art and old as he was, Halcyone
might give him a new point of view.

Next day they left for Pisa.