barge, with coloured lanterns swaying in
the breeze. They were beginning to sing, and their voices sounded sweet
and melodious in the open air. Above the Salute the clouds were breaking
away, and there were stars gleaming in the deep blue clearing.

"Have you seen the stars, Uncle Dan?" came Pauline's voice through the
key-hole. "We're going to have a glorious day to-morrow!"

V

The Signora

They had been spending an hour among the wonderful glooms and gleams of
St. Mark's, and now they had mounted to the high gallery that spans the
space between pillar and pillar. The Colonel had looked twice at his
watch, for he had an appointment with himself, so to speak, and he
proposed to leave the girls to the study of the gold mosaics which they
seemed inclined to take seriously. For the moment they were leaning upon
the stone balustrade, looking down into the great dim spaces of the
church.

"I wish I knew whether it was really good," said May, lifting her golden
head in deprecation of a possibly misguided admiration. "It is so
beautiful that I'm dreadfully afraid it is meretricious."

"It is really good," said a voice close at hand. "I think we may set our
minds at rest about that."

The voice was its own passport and no one thought of taking the remark
amiss. Uncle Dan who had been consulting his watch for the third time,
looked up with a twinkle of good understanding, which the appearance of
the speaker justified. The young man was possessed of a good figure and
a good face, as well as of a good voice.

Somewhat startled, the girls turned and discovered that they had been
obstructing the narrow passage.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" they both cried, as they retreated into an
angle of the gallery. "You couldn't pass us by."

"I didn't particularly want to," the stranger replied, quite at his
ease. "This is one of the best points of view," and it was much to his
credit that he did not give the obvious turn to his remark by looking at
the two girls as he made it, for neither the beauty of the youthful
sceptic nor the quiet distinction of her sister was likely to have been
lost upon a man of his stamp. That they were sisters, unlike as they
were, could not have escaped the most casual observer.

[Illustration: "They had mounted to the high gallery
that spans the space between
pillar and pillar"]

"Then you know what is good," May remarked, in perfect good faith.

"I know this is good," he answered; "and I