irect from the Queen of Naples. But your father is
getting impatient for his cigar."
They rose, and bowed sweetly. I joined them in the glass winter-garden a
few minutes later.
"Have you been to the Pincio? But I forgot, of course you know Rome. I
do love the Pincio," sighed Mrs. Brodie over some needlework, and then,
as an afterthought, "Do you know the two things that have impressed me
most since I came here?"
"I could not dare to guess any more than I dare tell you what has
impressed me most," I replied, gazing softly at Flora.
"The two things which have really and truly impressed me most," continued
Mrs. Brodie, "more than anything else, more than the Pantheon, or the
Forum, are--St. Peter's and the Colosseum." She almost looked young
again.
The next day we visited the Borghese; and I was able to explain to Flora
why the circular "Madonna and Angels" was not by Botticelli. And,
indeed, there was hardly a picture in Rome I was unable to reattribute to
its rightful owner. In the apt Flora I found a receptive pupil. She
even grew suspicious about the great Velasquez at the Doria, in which she
fancied, with all the enthusiasm of youth, that she detected the handling
of Mazo. I soon found that it was better for her training to discourage
her from looking at pictures at all--we confined ourselves to
photographs. In a photograph you are not disturbed by colour, or by
impasto. You are able to study the morphic values in a picture, by which
means you arrive at the attribution without any disturbing aesthetic
considerations.
One afternoon, returning from some church ceremony, Flora said to me,
"Oh, Aleister" (we were already engaged secretly), "papa is going to ask
you next winter to stay at Hootawa. Before I forget, I want to warn you
never to criticise the pictures. They are mostly of the Dutch and
English School, and I dare say you will find a great many of the names
wrong; but, you know, papa is irritable, and it would offend him if you
said that the 'Terborch' was really by Pieter de Hooghe. You can easily
avoid saying anything--and then, you will really admire the Vandyck."
"Darling Flora, of course I promise. By the way, you never speak of your
family ghost, although Mrs. Brodie always refers to it as if I knew all
about it; and the Colonel has often told me of Sir Rupert's military
achievements."
"Oh, Aleister, I don't know whether you believe in ghosts: it _is_ very
extraordinary. Wh
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