s and three Ave Marias kneeling, and eat no butter nor eggs
next Wednesday, and pax vobiscum!' and off a went with his hands behind
him, looking as if there was no such thing as me in the world."

Teresa waited patiently, then calmly brought this discursive lady back
to the point: "Would she be so kind as go with this good youth to the
friar and speak for him?"

"Alack! how can I leave my shop? And what need? His door is aye open to
writers, and painters, and scholars, and all such cattle. Why, one day
he would not receive the Duke d'Urbino, because a learned Greek was
closeted with him, and the friar's head and his so close together over a
dusty parchment just come in from Greece, as you could put one cowl over
the pair. His wench Onesta told me. She mostly looks in here for a chat
when she goes an errand."

"This is the man for thee, my friend," said Teresa.

"All you have to do," continued Lucretia, "is to go to his lodgings (my
boy shall show them you), and tell Onesta you come from me, and you are
a writer, and she will take you up to him. If you put a piece of silver
in the wench's hand, 'twill do you no harm: that stands to reason."

"I have silver," said Teresa warmly.

"But stay," said Lucretia, "mind one thing. What the young man saith he
can do, that he must be able to do, or let him shun the good friar like
poison. He is a very wild beast against all bunglers. Why, 'twas but
t'other day, one brought him an ill-carved crucifix. Says he, 'Is this
how you present "Salvator Mundi?" who died for you in mortal agony; and
you go and grudge him careful work. This slovenly gimcrack, a crucifix?
But that it is a crucifix of some sort, and I am a holy man, I'd dust
your jacket with your crucifix,' says he. Onesta heard every word
through the key-hole; so mind."

"Have no fears, madama," said Teresa loftily. "I will answer for his
ability; he saved my child."

Gerard was not subtle enough to appreciate this conclusion; and was so
far from sharing Teresa's confidence that he begged a respite. He would
rather not go to the friar to-day: would not to-morrow do as well?

"Here is a coward for ye," said Lucretia.

"No, he is not a coward," said Teresa, firing up; "he is modest."

"I am afraid of this high-born, fastidious friar," said Gerard,
"Consider he has seen the handiwork of all the writers in Italy, dear
dame Teresa; if you would but let me prepare a better piece of work than
yet I have done, and then to-m