randmother, Madame
Bois-Hebert, an aged, quiet lady, with dark eyes.

In the expressive face of the young man could be traced a resemblance to
hers, and the grace of form and movement which his firmer limbs and
greater activity gave him, were evidently something like what the
dignity of mien and carriage that were still left her by age had once
been.

He was tall and had a handsome make, and kindly, generous face. The
features of his countenance were marked ones, denoting clear intelligent
opinions; and his hair, moustache and young beard, of jet black,
contrasted well with the color which enriched his brunet cheek. Whether
it was due to a happy chance or to the surroundings of his life, or
whether descent from superior races has something in it, existence had
been generous to him in attractions.

When Madame withdrew, after the tea, he gave Mr. Chrysler a chair by the
fireplace in the drawing-room end of the apartment, for it was a cool
evening, and saying:--"Do you mind this? It is a liking of mine,"
stepped over to the lamps and turned them down, throwing the light of
the burning wood upon the pictures and _objets d'art_ which adorned the
apartment.

The great cast of Apollo, though in shadow, stood out against a
background of deep red hangings in its corner and attracted the older
gentleman's remarks.

"I have arranged the surroundings to recall my first impression of him
in the Vatican Galleries," said the other. "I was wandering among that
riches of fine statues and had begun to feel it an _embarras_, as our
own phrase goes, when I came into a chamber and saw in the midst of it
this most beautiful of the deities rising lightly before me, looking
ahead after the arrow he has shot."

"You have been in Italy, then?"

"I have, Sir," he answered, "I have had my Italian days like
Longfellow;" and, looking into the fire, he continued low, almost to
himself:--

"... Land of the Madonna:
How beautiful it is! It seems a garden
Of Paradise ... Long years ago
I wandered as a youth among its bowers
And never from my heart has faded quite
Its memory, that like a summer sunset,
Encircles with a ring of purple light
All the horizon of my youth."

As Chrysler regarded him then and heard this free expression of feeling
he could not but feel that Haviland was a foreigner, different from the
British peoples.

"And yet," mused Haviland, in a moment again, "Have we not a more than
Italy in th