which he had incautiously seated himself for a moment, and now remained imprisoned, because Miss Elaine had placed herself across the entrance so that he could not emerge without asking her to rise; from this niche, like the tenor of Trovatore in his tower, he occasionally sent across a Miserere to Janet in the distance, like this: "Do you ob-serve, Miss Trescott, the col-ors of the lem-ons below?" And Janet would gesture an assent. Lloyd and Margaret had found a place on a little projecting plateau, where, with the warm sunshine flooding over them, they sat contentedly talking. Meanwhile, having neither sleep, retrospect, tragedy, Miserere, nor conversation with which to entertain myself, I really looked at the view, and probably was the only person who did. I had time enough for it. We remained there nearly two hours. they came slowly in, Janet flushed, and Inness very pale, Baker like a thundercloud, Miss Elaine smiling and conscious, Verney annoyed, Lloyd just as usual, and Margaret with a younger look in her face than I had seen there for months. In the little rock amphitheatre below we found the villagers merrily dancing; and some strangers like ourselves, who had come out from Mentone later, were amusing themselves by dancing also. Janet joined the circle with Baker, and Inness, after leaning on the parapet awhile, with his back to the dancers, gazing into space, disappeared. I think he went homeward by another path across the mountains. Miss Elaine admired "so much" Miss Trescott's courage in dancing before" so many strangers." She (Miss Elaine) was far "too shy to attempt it." But I did not notice that she was violently urged to the At last our donkey-driver came up to tell attempt. In the mean time Lloyd was us that dancing was going on below, and looking at an English girl belonging to that there was not much time if we wish- the other party, who was dancing near us. ed to see it, since the long homeward jour- She was tall and shapely, with the beautiney still lay before us. So we elders be- ful English rose-pink complexion, and gan to call: "Janet!" "Janet!" "Mar- abundant light hair which had the glint garet!" "Mr. Verney!" And presently of bronze where the sun shone across it. from the rock, the niche, and the plateau After a while, as the others came near, he VESTIGES OF ROMAN MONUMENTS. looked back. The far peak of Sant' Agnese was flushed with rose-light, although where we were it was already night. "It does not seem as if we could have been there," I said. "It looks so far away." 66 "Yes, we have been there," said Margaret; we have been there. But already it is far, far away." Mrs. Trescott found a letter awaiting her which made her decide to go forward to Florence on the following day. A great deal can happen in a short time when there is the pressure of a near departure. That evening Janet, who was dressed in white, had a great bunch of the sweet wild narcissus at her belt. I do not know anything certainly, of course, but I did meet Inness in the hall, about eleven o'clock, with a radiant, happy face, and some of that same narcissus in his button - hole. He went with the Trescotts to Florence the next day. And Baker, with disgust, went to Nice. Soon afterward Verney said that he felt that he required "a closer acquaintance with early art," and departed with English girl and fro. out saying exactly whither. "Etruscan art, I believe, is considered extremely early,'" remarked Mrs. Clary. The Professor was to join the Trescotts later; at present he was much engaged with some cinerary urns. Miss Elaine, who was to remain a month longer with her mother, remarked to me, on one of the last mornings, that "really, for his age," he was a "very well preserved Margaret and I remained for two weeks after Mrs. Trescott's departure. We saw Mr. Lloyd now and then; but he was more frequently off with the English party. One afternoon I went with Margaret to watch the sunset from her favorite post beside the statue. She sought the place almost every evening now, and occasionally I went with her. We had never found any one there at that hour; but this evening we heard voices, and came upon Lloyd and the of Sant' Agnese, strolling to "I have brought Miss Read to see the view here, Miss Severin," he said; and then introductions followed, and we stood there together watching the beautiful tints of sky and sea. The English girl talked in her English voice with its little rising and falling inflections, so different from our monotonous American key. garet answered pleasantly, and, indeed, talked more than usual; I was glad to see her interested. Mar "There may be a little something about the mouth-" I began. But he interrupted me. "Why, it is perfect! The statue is her portrait in marble. Miss Read, will you not let me place you in the same position, just for an instant?" And, leading her to a little mound, he placed her in the required pose; she had thrown off her hat to oblige him, and now clasped her hands and turned her eyes over the sea toward the eastern horizon. What was the result? The only resemblance, as I had said, was about the mouth; for the beautifully cut lips of the statue turned downward at the corners, and the curve of Miss Read's sweet baby-like mouth was the same. But that was all. Above was the woman's face in marble, beautiful, sad, full of the knowledge and the grief of life; below was the face of a young girl, lovely, fresh, and bright, and knowing no more of sorrow than a blush - rose upon its stem. "Exact!" said Lloyd. Miss Read laughed, rose, and resumed her straw hat; presently they went away. "There was not the slightest resemblance," I said, almost with indignation. "People see resemblances differently," answered Margaret. Then, after a pause, she added, "She is, at least, much more like the statue than I am." "Not in the spirit, dear," I said, much touched; for I saw that as she spoke the rare tears had filled her eyes. But they did not fall; Margaret had a great deal of self-control; perhaps too much. "Shall we Then there was a silence. go now, aunt ?" she said, after a time. And we never spoke of the subject again. 66 'Look, look, Margaret! the palms of Bordighera!" I said, as our train rushed past. It was our last of Mentone. A CROWD of homespun peasants stood the spurs. Just look at that eye! Fch about me at the end of the little public hall, their sunburned faces twisting and working at drawing their pipes and emphasizing their good-humored talk. Others still came in through the door, bringing a turnip, a pair of woollen socks, or a salted eel, although the table was already piled high with such odds and ends from the farm, the house, or the sea. A clerk and a treasurer presided there, conferring and noting with the important air of public officers. The auctioneer on the platform took an astonished fowl by the legs, and holding it up to the gaze of all, opened the religious ceremony of Allsaints' Day. "A cock for the souls in purgatory; he's fat, gentlemen, and as good as ever you tasted in your mortal lives. How much am I offered? Six sous-six sous -six. And remember, lads, he's ready for the souls in purgatory. A fine fat cock. How much? Twelve sous, Mr. Dubé? Yes, sir. Eighteen-eighteen-eighteen. Come, now, you fowl people, what's the matter this year? You don't seem half alive. A shilling, Mr. Gagnon-one shilling-one-one. Thirty sous, Mr. Dubéthirty sous once, t-h-i-r-t-y sous twice, thirty sous three times. Sold to Mr. Dubé for thirty sous." And the treasurer of souls entered the item in his memorandum. "I'm holding back for the geese," said a man at my elbow; and, as if in reply, the geese and turkeys set up a cackling that drowned every other sound. "Don't you want to buy something, sir?" "Well, I don't know," said I. "You see, I have nobody down there to receive it; and if it went to one of your people, a Protestant turnip might disagree with a Catholic." |