before the picture, as if he would
learn its meaning, the artist watching anxiously, not guessing his
thought.

"The pious wish hath made the offering noble," he said at length, in
quiet, measured tones. "And for the face, it is holy--of the beauty that
God permits--yet I pretend no criticism, since Art is not of mine
understanding. I will not take the honor of the gift away from the
giver, though I had meant it otherwise."

After Fra Paolo had left the studio the Veronese was still studying his
picture, pleased and serious, feeling that this man, who was not an
artist, had comprehended the deepest mood in which he had ever
approached his art, when Marina entered.

"Fra Paolo hath found our offering worthy," he said very gravely; and
suddenly remembering that Marina had come for the last time, "Benedetto
hath need of me in the outer studio for some measurements," he said to
Marcantonio, "but I shall soon return. Do thou, meanwhile, show the
_damigella_ thy sketch."

She turned inquiringly toward Marcantonio, who placed it silently before
her. When he gathered courage to look at her she stood flushed and
trembling with clasped hands.

"Marina!" he cried.

She moved suddenly away from him, drawing herself up to her full height,
one hand slightly extended, as if to keep him from coming nearer; but
her face, as she turned it frankly to his, was lighted with a smile the
Veronese would never copy, and her eyes shone through her tears.

"Is it true, Marina?" he questioned radiantly, as he tried to seize her
hand.

But she still moved backward--not as if she were afraid, but as though
she would help him by a motion to understand.

"You have confessed me unawares," she said, "and shown me mine own
secret, which I knew not. It is not to confess nor deny."

"Yet you move away, Marina, as if you would not have it so."

"Because only the renunciation of it is for us," she answered firmly.
"For I am of the people, and you--of the Giustiniani!"

"As you shall also be!" he affirmed, undaunted.

"Marco, at Venice this is not easy!" The tone was a caress which she
made no effort to withhold, yet he dared not try again to touch her
hand; he already felt her strength.

"None the less, because it is not easy it shall be done. Reach me your
hand, Marina, to prove that you trust my vow."

He was not wont to crave favor so humbly, but a new reverence had
entered into his soul.

She hesitated for a moment, then her words c