ay from Venice and Luigi. He had given me a drawing--a
scene composed from our first meeting upon the Lagune. The very soul of
evening repose brooded upon the picture. It had even an indefinable tone
of sadness, as if he had incorporated into it the sound of the vesper
bell. It had been simply a melancholy sound to him. To the rest of us, who
loved Camillo, it was something more than that. In his heart the mere
remembrance of the island rang melancholy vespers forever.

"This drawing I kept in a private drawer. At night, when I went to my
chamber, I opened the drawer and looked at it. It lay so that I did not
need to touch it; and as I gazed at it, I saw all his own character, and
all that I had felt and lived since that evening.

"At length the day came, on which the parents of Sulpizia came to my
brother to speak of her portrait. Camillo listened to them quietly, and
mentioned his friend Luigi as a man who could understand Sulpizia, and
therefore paint her portrait. The parents were satisfied. It was an
unusual thing; but at that time, as at all times, a great many unusual
things could be done in convents, especially if one had a brother, who was
Cardinal Balbo.

IV.

"It was a bright morning that Camillo carried Luigi in his gondola to the
convent. He had merely said to him that there was a beautiful abbess to
paint, an old friend of his; and Luigi replied that he would always
willingly desert beautiful waters and skies for beautiful eyes. They
reached the island"--

The Marchesa beat the floor slowly with her foot, and controlled herself,
as if a spasm of mortal agony had seized her.

"They reached the island, and stepped ashore into the convent garden. They
went into the little parlor, and presently the abbess entered veiled. My
brother, who had not seen her since she was his playmate, could not pierce
the veil; and as calmly as ever told her briefly the name of his friend,
said a few generous words of him, and, rising, promised to call at sunset
for Luigi, and departed."

The Marchesa now spoke very rapidly.

"I do not well know--nobody knows--but Sulpizia raised her veil, and Luigi
adjusted his easel. He painted--they conversed--the day fled away. Sunset
came. Camillo arrived in his gondola, and Luigi came out without smiling.
The gondoliers pulled toward the city.

"'Is she beautiful?' asked Camillo.

"'Wonderful,' responded his friend, and said no more. He trailed his hands
in the water, and the