trils were slightly
contracted, as if they shrank from breathing the same air with other
human beings.

The monarch's face remained unmoved, while receiving the Pope's legates
and the ambassadors from the republic of Venice. When Moor was led
before him, a faint smile was visible beneath the soft, drooping
moustache and close-shaven beard on the cheeks and chin; the prince's
dull eyes also gained some little animation.

The day after the reception a bell rang in the studio, which was cleared
of all present as quickly as possible, for it announced the approach
of the king, who appeared entirely alone and spent two whole hours with
Moor.

All these marks of distinction might have turned a weaker brain, but
Moor received them calmly, and as soon as he was alone with Ulrich or
Sophonisba, appeared no less unassuming and kindly, than at Emmendingen
and on the journey through France.

A week after taking possession of the apartments in the treasury, the
servants received orders to refuse admittance to every one, without
distinction of rank or person, informing them that the artist was
engaged in working for His Majesty.

Sophonisba Anguisciola was the only person whom Moor never refused to
see. He had greeted the strange girl on his arrival, as a father meets
his child.

Ulrich had been present when the artist gave her his portrait, and saw
her, overwhelmed with joy and gratitude, cover her face with her hands
and burst into loud sobs.

During Moor's first visit to Madrid, the young girl had come from
Cremona to the king's court with her father and five sisters, and since
then the task of supporting all six had rested on her shoulders.

Old Cavaliere Anguisciola was a nobleman of aristocratic family, who had
squandered his large patrimony, and now, as he was fond of saying, lived
day by day "by trusting God." A large portion of his oldest daughter's
earnings he wasted at the gaming table with dissolute nobles, relying
with happy confidence upon the talent displayed also by his younger
children, and on what he called "trust in God." The gay, clever Italian
was everywhere a welcome guest, and while Sophonisba toiled early and
late, often without knowing how she was to obtain suitable food and
clothing for her sisters and herself, his life was a series of banquets
and festivals. Yet the noble girl retained the joyous courage inherited
from her father, nay, more--even in necessity she did not cease to take
a lofty view