e modern picture, picked up in a by-street at
Palermo. It is a Virgin and Child, by Guido."

On further explanation it appeared that the picture exposed for sale was
painted on copper. Noticing the contrast between the rare material and
the wretchedly bad painting that covered it, Rothsay had called t o mind
some of the well-known stories of valuable works of art that had been
painted over for purposes of disguise. The price asked for the picture
amounted to little more than the value of the metal. Rothsay bought it.
His knowledge of chemistry enabled him to put his suspicion successfully
to the test; and one of the guests on board the yacht--a famous French
artist--had declared his conviction that the picture now revealed to
view was a genuine work by Guido. Such an opinion as this convinced
me that it would be worth while to submit my friend's discovery to
the judgment of other experts. Consulted independently, these critics
confirmed the view taken by the celebrated personage who had first seen
the work. This result having been obtained, Rothsay asked my advice next
on the question of selling his picture. I at once thought of my uncle.
An undoubted work by Guido would surely be an acquisition to his
gallery. I had only (in accordance with his own request) to let him know
that my friend had returned to England. We might take the picture with
us, when we received our invitation to Lord Lepel's house.

FOURTH EPOCH.

My uncle's answer arrived by return of post. Other engagements obliged
him to defer receiving us for a month. At the end of that time, we were
cordially invited to visit him, and to stay as long as we liked.

In the interval that now passed, other events occurred--still of the
trifling kind.

One afternoon, just as I was thinking of taking my customary ride in the
park, the servant appeared charged with a basket of flowers, and with
a message from Mrs. Rymer, requesting me to honor her by accepting a
little offering from her daughter. Hearing that she was then waiting
in the hall, I told the man to show her in. Susan (as I ought to have
already mentioned) had sent her exercises to me regularly every week.
In returning them corrected, I had once or twice added a word of
well-deserved approval. The offering of flowers was evidently intended
to express my pupil's grateful sense of the interest taken in her by her
teacher.

I had no reason, this time, to suppose that Mrs. Rymer entertained an
unfriendly