gined, nor could all his most devout exhortations produce
one-quarter of the effect upon him that resulted from the discovery that
it was the fair Agnes who originated the design and was interested in
its execution. Then did the large black eyes of the youth kindle into
something of sympathetic fervor, and he willingly promised to do his
very best at the carving.

"I used to know the fair Agnes well, years ago," he said, "but of late
she will not even look at me; yet I worship her none the less. Who can
help it that sees her? I don't think she is so hard-hearted as she
seems; but her grandmother and the priests won't so much as allow her to
lift up her eyes when one of us young fellows goes by. Twice these five
years past have I seen her eyes, and then it was when I contrived to get
near the holy water when there was a press round it of a saint's day,
and I reached some to her on my finger, and then she smiled upon me and
thanked me. Those two smiles are all I have had to live on for all
this time. Perhaps, if I work very well, she will give me another, and
perhaps she will say, 'Thank you, my good Pietro!' as she used to, when
I brought her birds' eggs or helped her across the ravine, years ago."

"Well, my brave boy, do your best," said the monk, "and let the shrine
be of the fairest white marble. I will be answerable for the expense; I
will beg it of those who have substance."

"So please you, holy father," said Pietro, "I know of a spot, a little
below here on the coast, where was a heathen temple in the old days; and
one can dig therefrom long pieces of fair white marble, all covered with
heathen images. I know not whether your Reverence would think them fit
for Christian purposes."

"So much the better, boy! so much the better!" said the monk, heartily.
"Only let the marble be fine and white, and it is as good as converting
a heathen any time to baptize it to Christian uses. A few strokes of the
chisel will soon demolish their naked nymphs and other such rubbish, and
we can carve holy virgins, robed from head to foot in all modesty, as
becometh saints."

"I will get my boat and go down this very afternoon," said Pietro; "and,
Sir, I hope I am not making too bold in asking you, when you see the
fair Agnes, to present unto her this lily, in memorial of her old
playfellow."

"That I will, my boy! And now I think of it, she spoke kindly of you as
one that had been a companion in her childhood, but said her grand