of art, and never permitted anything to leave her studio
till she considered it finished.

At first Moor watched her silently, then he invited her to work in his
studio, and avail herself of his advice and assistance.

So she had become his pupil, his friend.

Soon the young girl had no secrets from him, and the glimpses of her
domestic life thus afforded touched him and brought her nearer and
nearer to his heart.

The old Cavaliere praised the lucky accident, and was ready to show
himself obliging, when Moor offered to let him and his daughters
occupy a house he had purchased, that it might be kept in a habitable
condition, and when the artist had induced the king to grant Sophonisba
a larger annual salary, the father instantly bought a second horse.

The young girl, in return for so many benefits, was gratefully devoted
to the artist, but she would have loved him even without them. His
society was her greatest pleasure. To be allowed to stay and paint with
him, become absorbed in conversation about art, its problems, means and
purposes, afforded her the highest, purest happiness.

When she had discharged the duties imposed upon her by her attendance
upon the queen, her heart drew her to the man she loved and honored.
When she left him, it always seemed as if she had been in church, as if
her soul had been steeped in purity and was effulgent. Moor had hoped
to find her sisters with her in Madrid, but the old Cavaliere had taken
them away with him to Italy. His "trust in God" was rewarded, for he
had inherited a large fortune. What should he do longer in Madrid! To
entertain the stiff, grave Spaniards and move them to laughter, was a
far less pleasing occupation than to make merry with gay companions and
be entertained himself at home.

Sophonisba was provided for, and the beautiful, gay, famous maid of
honor would have no lack of suitors. Against his daughter's wish, he
had given to the richest and most aristocratic among them, the Sicilian
baron Don Fabrizio di Moncada, the hope of gaining her hand. "Conquer
the fortress! When it yields--you can hold it," were his last words; but
the citadel remained impregnable, though the besieger could bring into
the field as allies a knightly, aristocratic bearing, an unsullied
character, a handsome, manly figure, winning manners, and great wealth.

Ulrich felt a little disappointed not to find the five young girls, of
whom he had dreamed, in Madrid; it would have been pl