g, from mademoiselle's expression,
to see a commonplace portrait of some unfortunate admirer whom she
had treated with unmerited severity in the days of her youth. To my
astonishment, I found that the miniature, which was very beautifully
painted, represented a woman's face--a young woman with kind, sad eyes,
pale, delicate cheeks, light hair, and such a pure, tender, lovely
expressions that I thought of Raphael's Madonnas the moment I looked at
her portrait.

The old lady observed the impression which the miniature produced on me,
and nodded her head in silence. "What a beautiful, innocent, pure face!"
I said.

Mademoiselle Clairfait gently brushed a particle of dust from the
miniature with her handkerchief, and kissed it. "I have three angels
still left," she said, looking at her pupils. "They console me for the
fourth, who has gone to heaven."

She patted the face on the miniature gently with her little, withered,
white fingers, as if it had been a living thing. _"Sister Rose!"_ she
sighed to herself; then, looking up again at me, said, "I should like it
put into my portrait, sir, because I have always worn it since I was a
young woman, for 'Sister Rose's' sake."

The sudden change in her manner, from the extreme of flighty gayety to
the extreme of quiet sadness, would have looked theatrical in a woman of
any other nation. It seemed, however, perfectly natural and appropriate
in her. I went back to my drawing, rather perplexed. Who was "Sister
Rose"? Not one of the Lanfray family, apparently. The composure of the
young ladies when the name was mentioned showed plainly enough that the
original of the miniature had been no relation of theirs.

I tried to stifle my curiosity on the subject of Sister Rose, by giving
myself entirely to my work. For a full half-hour, Mademoiselle Clairfait
sat quietly before me, with her hands crossed on her lap, and her eyes
fixed on the bracelet. This happy alteration enabled me to do something
toward completing the outline of her face and figure. I might even,
under fortunate circumstances, have vanquished the preliminary
difficulties of my task at one effort; but the fates were against me
that day. While I was still working rapidly and to my satisfaction,
a servant knocked at the door to announce luncheon, and mademoiselle
lightly roused herself from her serious reflection and her quiet
position in a moment.

"Ah me!" she said, turning the miniature round on her wrist till it wa