w amazed to find her the model of his picture. The beauty of
the spot, the charm of her posture, and the taste of her attire had so
changed her that she was hardly recognisable. Her eyes shone with her
recent anger, which was not yet extinct; her face, animated by the fresh
breath of the breeze, by her dispute with the Judge, and by the sudden
arrival of the young men, had assumed a deep flush, of unwonted
liveliness.

"Madam," said the Count, "deign to pardon my boldness; I come both to
crave forgiveness and to express my gratitude. To crave forgiveness, since
I have stealthily followed your steps; and to express gratitude, since I
have been the witness of your meditations. Much have I injured you, and
much do I owe to you! I have interrupted a moment of meditation; to you I
owe moments of inspiration! blessed moments! Condemn the man; but the
artist awaits your forgiveness. Much have I dared, and more will I dare!
Judge!"

Here he knelt and offered her his landscape.

Telimena passed judgment on his sketch with the tone of a courteous lady,
but of one conversant with art; of praise she was chary, but she did not
spare encouragement.

"Bravo, I congratulate you," she said, "you have no small talent. Only do
not neglect it; above all you need to search out a beautiful environment!
O happy skies of the Italian lands! rose gardens of the Caesars! ye
classic cascades of Tibur, and dread craggy paths of Posilipo! That,
Count, is the land of painters! On us may God have pity! A child of the
Muses, put out to nurse in Soplicowo, would surely die. My dear Count, I
will have this framed, or I will put it in my album, in my collection of
drawings, which I have gathered from every source: I have numbers of them
in my desk."

So they began to converse of the blue of the skies, of the murmur of waves
and of fragrant breezes, and of the summits of crags, mingling here and
there, after the fashion of travellers, laughter and mockery at the land
of their fathers. And yet around them stretched the forests of Lithuania,
so majestic and so full of beauty! The black currant, intertwined with a
wreath of wild hop; the service tree, with the fresh blush of a
shepherdess; the hazel, like a maenad, with green thyrsuses, decked with
the pearls of its nuts as with clusters of grapes; and beneath them the
children of the forest, the hawthorn in the embrace of the elder, the
blackberry pressing its black lips upon the raspberry. The trees an