.

"But, you must!" cried Paul, with the gloriously audacious faith of
youth which has just discovered a true apostle. "Pater puts you on to
the inner meaning of everything--in art, I mean. He doesn't wander
about in the air like Ruskin, though, of course, if you get your mental
winnowing machine in proper working order you can get the good grain
out of Ruskin. 'The Stones of Venice' and 'The Seven Lamps' have taught
me a lot. But you always have to be saying to yourself, 'Is this
gorgeous nonsense or isn't it?' whereas in Pater there's no nonsense at
all. You're simply carried along on a full stream of Beauty straight
into the open Sea of Truth."

And Ursula Winwood, to whom Archbishops had been deferential and
Cabinet Ministers had come for, guidance, meekly promised to send at
once for Pater's 'Renaissance' and so fill in a most lamentable gap in
her education.

"My uncle, the Archdeacon," she said, after a while, "reminded me that
the great Savelli was a Venetian general--of Roman family; and,
strangely enough, his name, too, was Paul. Perhaps that's how you got
the name."

"That must be how," said Paul dreamily. He had not heard of the great
general. He had seen the name of Savelli somewhere--also that of
Torelli--and had hesitated between the two. Thinking it no great harm,
he wove into words the clamour of his cherished romance. "My parents
died when I was quite young--a baby--and then I was brought to England.
So you see"--he smiled in his winning way--"I'm absolutely English."

"But you've kept your Italian love of beauty."

"I hope so," said Paul.

"Then I suppose you were brought up by guardians," said Ursula.

"A guardian," said Paul, anxious to cut down to a minimum the mythical
personages that might be connected with his career. "But I seldom saw
him. He lived in Paris chiefly. He's dead now."

"What a poor little uncared-for waif you must have been."

Paul laughed. "Oh, don't pity me. I've had to think for myself a good
deal, it is true. But it has done me good. Don't you find it's the
things one learns for oneself--whether they are about life or old
china--that are the most valuable?"

"Of course," said Miss Winwood. But she sighed, womanlike, at the
thought of the little Paul--(how beautiful he must have been as a
child!)--being brought up by servants and hirelings in a lonely house,
his very guardian taking no concern in his welfare.

Thus it came about that, from the exiguous material s