lling himself, he continued:
'She pretends to no more than she is, but she shows the beauty of
goodness in itself in a--a--wonderful way. And think of the power of
those words of hers over that gloomy, desperate man.'

'Your sympathy with the Innominato again,' said Philip. Every subject
seemed to excite Guy to a dangerous extent, as Laura thought, and she
turned to Philip to ask if he would not read to them again.

'I brought this book on purpose,' said Philip. 'I wished to read you a
description of that print from Raffaelle--you know it--the Madonna di
San Sisto?'

'The one you brought to show us?' said Amy, 'with the two little
angels?'

'Yes, here is the description,' and he began to read--

'Dwell on the form of the Child, more than human in grandeur, seated on
the arms of the Blessed Virgin as on an august throne. Note the tokens
of divine grace, His ardent eyes, what a spirit, what a countenance is
His; yet His very resemblance to His mother denotes sufficiently that He
is of us and takes care for us. Beneath are two figures adoring, each in
their own manner. On one side is a pontiff, on the other a virgin each
a most sweet and solemn example, the one of aged, the other of maidenly
piety and reverence. Between, are two winged boys, evidently presenting
a wonderful pattern of childlike piety. Their eyes, indeed, are not
turned towards the Virgin, but both in face and gesture, they show how
careless of themselves they are in the presence of God.'

All were struck by the description. Guy did not speak at first, but
the solemn expression of his face showed how he felt its power and
reverence. Philip asked if they would like to hear more, and Charles
assented: Amy worked, Laura went on with her perspective, and Guy sat
by her side, making concentric circles with her compasses, or when she
wanted them he tormented her parallel ruler, or cut the pencils, never
letting his fingers rest except at some high or deep passage, or when
some interesting discussion arose. All were surprised when luncheon time
arrived; Charles held out his hand for the book; it was given with a
slight smile, and he exclaimed' Latin! I thought you were translating.
Is it your own property?'

'Yes.'

'Is it very tough? I would read it, if any one would read it with me.'

'Do you mean me?' said Guy; 'I should like it very much, but you have
seen how little Latin I know.'

'That is the very thing,' said Charles; 'that Ovis of yours was mu