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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77861-0.txt b/77861-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..63b1e6f --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9024 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77861 *** + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + + + +[Illustration] + + + + [Illustration: THE GIRLS OWN BOOKSHELF] + + + MAUD MARIAN + + ARTIST + + OR + + THE STUDIO MARIANO + + + BY + + EGLANTON THORNE + + AUTHOR OF + + "THE OLD WORCESTER JUG," "ALDYTH'S INHERITANCE," + "THE MANSE OF GLEN CLUNIE," ETC. + + + + THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY + + 56 PATERNOSTER ROW AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD + + + + Oxford + + HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY + + + + CONTENTS + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER + + I. "I CARE FOR ART" + + II. A STARTLING PROPOSAL + + III. AT ROME + + IV. THE INAUGURATION OF THE STUDIO + + V. NEW FRIENDS + + VI. ENID'S MASTER + + VII. MRS. DAKIN'S RECEPTION + + VIII. COMPLICATIONS + + IX. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE + + X. A PASSIONATE ACT + + XI. A SERIOUS ADVENTURE + + XII. SEARCHING FOR THE LOST + + XIII. AT THE VILLA MATTEI + + XIV. AN UNLOOKED-FOR HONOUR + + XV. VARIOUS THREADS OF ROMANCE + + XVI. MAUD RECEIVES STARTLING NEWS + + XVII. FEVER + +XVIII. A HARD DUTY + + XIX. A HERO + + XX. AT THE RUINS OF TUSCULUM + + XXI. TWO ARTISTS SPOILED + + + + MAUD MARIAN, ARTIST + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER I + +"I CARE FOR ART" + +MR. MARIAN and his daughter, separated by the length of a large table +elegantly decorated with flowers, plate, and glass, were dining +together. It was seldom they dined thus alone, and Maud had never +before taken the head of the table; but the butler had deemed it +right she should now do so, and had set her place there. Only to-day, +however, had Maud become Miss Marian, and mistress of the house. + +Up to this time, her father's unmarried sister had kept his house and +taken loving care of his child—for Maud's mother had died when she was +too young to retain any remembrance of her. But now the Aunt Helen whom +Maud warmly loved was Miss Marian no longer. Some one else had had the +audacity to seek and to win her tender interest, and she had gone to +brighten the home of a gentleman with three motherless children whose +lack of a mother's care had strongly appealed to Helen Marian's loving +heart. All her life she had been used to caring for others, for she had +not been twenty when she came to keep her brother's house. Being so +young she had perhaps not been the wisest guardian her niece could have +had; but she had made the child happy, and as she grew up, Maud found +in her aunt a companion who seemed almost as young and as full of life +as herself. + +It was not surprising that Maud should feel herself injured by +her aunt's marriage. She hated the idea of missing her cheerful +companionship, and foresaw, moreover, sundry inconveniences to herself +which might arise from the event. Maud was not in the least gratified +by the new dignity she had attained. She had ambition, but it was +not of so commonplace an order as to be satisfied with petty social +distinctions. However others might regard her, in her own eyes Maud +Marian was a superior person. So, now that the excitement of the +wedding was over, and the bride had departed, she was disposed to be +silent, and nurse a sense of grievance. + +"My dear Maud," exclaimed Mr. Marian at last, when for some minutes the +servant had been moving noiselessly between them, and scarce a sound +had broken the stillness, "have you absolutely nothing to say? Come, +come, my dear, don't look so melancholy. To see you, one would think we +had had a funeral here to-day instead of a wedding." + +"I cannot see that a wedding is much more lively," said Maud languidly; +"they both mean loss." + +"Do they?" said Mr. Marian. "I don't think Hamilton would agree with +you about that. It strikes me that this wedding means gain for him, +most decidedly." + +"Yes, at our expense," said Maud bitterly. + +"Oh, well, you must not grudge him his happiness! He has had a sad home +for these last few years, and his poor little children need some one to +look after them." + +"He should have had a good housekeeper," said Maud. "For my part, I do +not approve of second marriages. There ought to be a law forbidding +them." + +Mr. Marian smiled to hear his young daughter express herself with such +decision. He looked across the table at her with amusement in his eyes. + +"It is a good thing the government of the country is not in your hands, +my dear," he observed, "for I fear you would make tyrannical use of +your power. Since the wedding is now an accomplished fact, we must make +the best of it. I congratulate myself that everything went off well. +Helen looked as well as possible, and as for you—I think I never saw +you in a more becoming gown." + +At last he had succeeded in bringing a smile to her face. No woman, +however superior, is above feeling pleasure when her gown is praised, +and Maud prided herself on her taste in dress. + +"I am very glad you like it," she said, glancing down with a gratified +air at her attire. "I really think Madame Adolphin has carried out my +ideas quite successfully for once." + +The wedding, which was supposed to be a quiet one, had taken place in +the afternoon. Maud was the only bridesmaid, and she still wore the +gown she had had made for the occasion. It was simple enough, being all +of white, without a touch of colour; but the material was soft Indian +silk, and what seemed to be pearls were strewn about the bodice, which +was cut low at the throat, and finished with a tucker of deep lace, a +style much affected by Maud, and exceedingly becoming to her, since she +had a pretty neck and a skin of delicate whiteness. + +She was a girl concerning whose claims to beauty people held very +different views. Her features were irregular, but small and piquant. +She had hair of the warm tawny hue which many of the old painters have +given to their Madonnas, and she wore it loosely coiled at the nape of +her neck with an artistic carelessness which was very becoming. Since +her complexion was of the dazzling fairness which seems generally to +accompany hair of that rare hue, it will be seen that the tall, slender +form of Maud Marian did not lack impressiveness. + +"Of course you will miss your aunt at first," said Mr. Marian, wishing +to console his daughter; "but Kensington is not a great way off. You +can drive there as often as you like, and Helen will come to see us +occasionally, I suppose, though she will be more tied to her home than +you are." + +Maud looked at her father for a few moments ere she made any reply. +Then she said with apparent carelessness, her eyes on the bread which +she was crumbling on the cloth, "I fear you will miss Aunt Helen more +than I this winter, papa. You forget that I am going abroad." + +Mr. Marian looked up quickly, his countenance expressing the utmost +astonishment. + +"Going abroad! What do you mean?" + +"You cannot have forgotten, papa, that you promised that I should have +another winter in Rome." + +"But, my dear, it was months ago that we talked about that—before there +was any thought of your aunt's marrying." + +"I cannot see how that alters the case," said Maud calmly. "A promise +is a promise." + +"Are you sure that I really promised? Even if I did, it seems to me +that the change which has taken place here would justify me in setting +aside that promise. Surely, Maud, you cannot earnestly propose to +yourself to leave me to pass the winter alone!" + +"It would only be for six months, papa, and you are always so engaged +with business that you would not miss me. You do not think how dull I +should be here by myself." + +"It shall be your own fault if you are dull," said her father eagerly. +"You are mistress of the house now, and you shall invite whom you +please. Perhaps I have devoted myself too exclusively to business in +the past; but the pressure is over now, I trust, and you shall teach me +to attend to my social duties." + +"Oh, papa, if you think I should care for that sort of thing, you are +quite mistaken," said Maud languidly. "All I care for is Art. The +lessons I took last winter, the hours I spent in picture galleries and +churches, will all be thrown away if I do not have another season of +hard work. And you know how I have been counting on going back to Rome +and setting up a studio there." + +"Why must you go to Rome?" asked her father. "Cannot you have a studio +here? I am sure there is room enough in this house." + +Maud smiled faintly. "You do not understand, papa," she said with an +air of superiority. + +"No, I do not understand," returned Mr. Marian with some warmth. "I +confess I cannot understand how an only child can so contemplate +leaving her father and her home. I should have thought a sense of duty +might have withheld her from doing so." + +The colour deepened in Maud's cheeks; she bit her lips in sudden +irritation; but she had tolerable self-control, and when she spoke it +was to say coldly, "I am afraid we have different ideas of duty. I, for +my part, regard it as a sacred duty to cultivate what little talent I +have for painting." + +For a few moments Mr. Marian was absolutely unable to reply. He was +startled, as he had been startled once or twice before, by the calm +assurance with which his daughter could maintain a right to whatever +she desired. + +When he spoke again, he approached the subject from another side, and +Maud felt that she had virtually gained her point. + +"I do not see how you are to go to Rome," he said. "You cannot go with +the Middletons as before, for they are not going abroad this winter. +Mrs. Middleton told me so this afternoon." + +"I know that," said Maud composedly. "But I am not dependent on the +Middletons now. I made many friends when I was in Rome last winter." + +"But it is impossible that you should go alone. Indeed, I will not hear +of such a thing," said her father. + +"Then I must have a companion," said Maud. "She will be a bore; but if +you insist upon it, I must get one. It is a pity you cannot come with +me to Rome yourself. I wish you would take a partner—then you could get +free sometimes." + +"Perhaps I shall take a partner before long," said her father—"a +young man of strong character and energy, fitted to succeed me in the +business. But it is early to talk of that. I am not an old fellow yet." + +Nor was he, though the arduous, unremitting toil by which he had won +his wealth had given him the look of age. No one, judging by his +appearance, would have believed that he had not yet seen fifty years. + +"It would be wise to take a partner soon," said Maud, "for I am sure +you need more rest." + +She was thinking of the man whom she believed her father meant to make +his partner; but she did not name Sidney Althorp, for she and her +father were wont to disagree with regard to his merits. + +"I have a suggestion to make," said her father suddenly. "Suppose you +put off your going to Rome for another year—by which time I may be in a +position to accompany you." + +"Oh no, no, thank you," said Maud, laughing; "I know how that would +be. At the end of the year, you would ask me to wait another, and then +another. You would never be able to tear yourself away from business +for six months; you care more for business than for anything else, and +I—I care for Art." + +By this time the dessert was on the table, and the servants had left +the room. Mr. Marian seemed vexed by his daughter's last remark, but +he did not immediately reply, and Maud was just thinking that enough +had been said on the subject, and she had better make her escape to the +drawing-room, when the house-bell was heard to ring. + +And a few moments later, the servant opened the door and announced "Mr. +Althorp." + +The man who entered the room was still young, but bore himself with +a grave, sedate air. He was tall and well-made, but not handsome, +yet the smile which lit up his countenance as he took Miss Marian's +outstretched hand gave him a most prepossessing appearance. His bearing +was distinguished by such grace and courtesy as women admire in men +far more than good looks. Most women of his acquaintance liked Sidney +Althorp; but Maud Marian was perhaps an exception. She called him an +"old friend," as indeed he was; but professed to find him tiresome, and +his conversation prosy. + +"Ah, Sidney," exclaimed Mr. Marian, an unfeigned welcome in his tones; +"to what do we owe this pleasure? Is it business brings you, or do you +come to offer your congratulations? If so, I had better warn you that +Maud regards the event of the day as a bereavement, and is indignant +with Hamilton." + +"At least, I may congratulate you that the ceremony was so admirably +accomplished," said Althorp, looking at Maud. "My mother has been +telling me about it. But it is business that brings me," he added, +turning to Mr. Marian. "After you left this morning, a clerk came from +Wardlaw Bros., and I promised to acquaint you with what he said and +send them a reply by to-night's post." + +He was proceeding to explain the matter when Maud rose. + +"If you have business to discuss, I will go to the drawing-room," she +said. "You will find me there when you feel inclined for coffee." + +Sidney Althorp opened the door and she passed out. His eyes followed +her slight, graceful figure across the hall with rather a regretful +glance ere he closed the door. + +Through a small ante-room decorated with rich draperies, palms, and +hothouse flowers, Maud entered the large drawing-room. A gay crowd +had filled it all the afternoon, and the room betrayed tokens of the +vanished visitors in the disorderly appearance it wore. Maud pushed +the chairs a little into their places, rescued a hand-screen, painted +by herself, from the fender into which it had fallen, and examined the +vase which held the bridal bouquet to see if it contained sufficient +water. + +Then with a sigh, she threw herself into an easy chair, saying half +aloud, "Weddings are horrid things." + +But she could not rest there long. Presently she sprang up, saying, +"Why need Sidney come and bother papa about business to-night of all +nights, when I feel so miserable, and hate to be alone?" + +She felt cross and out of spirits, a frame of mind which she imputed +entirely to her aunt's going away, not wishing perhaps to recognize any +other possible cause of it. She had seated herself at the grand piano +and was carelessly playing little snatches of melody, when the curtain +which screened the ante-room was pushed aside and Sidney Althorp came +in. + +"Ah, it is you!" she exclaimed. "Then I hope the business is concluded?" + +"My share of it," he said, coming to her side. "Your father has some +writing to do, but he will not be long. What is that you were playing? +It is very pretty." + +"Oh, it is only an air from a new opera I heard in Rome last winter," +Maud replied. The next moment she regretted the words. She did not wish +to speak of Rome with Sidney Althorp just then. + +"You enjoyed your winter abroad very much," he observed. + +"I did," replied Maud concisely. + +"Rome seems to have a wonderful fascination for every one who goes +there," was his next remark. + +"It has," said Maud; "there is no place like it." With that, she broke +into a brilliant march, calculated to suppress conversation. + +Althorp listened in silence for some minutes till she fell into a more +subdued strain, when he said, "Mary is anxious to form a choral class +this winter, to meet at different houses at Streatham. She hopes to +persuade you to join it." + +"She is very kind," said Maud, with some hesitation in her tones, +"but—I shall not be able to do so." + +"How so?" he asked quietly. + +Maud lifted her hands from the piano, and turned round quickly on the +music-stool. There was no use in trying to evade the truth. He would +have it. + +"Do you not know," she said—and there was a defiant light in her eyes +as she spoke—"do you not know that I am going to Rome for the winter?" + +"Are you, indeed?" he returned in low, grave tones. "My mother told me +she understood you to say so this afternoon; but I could not believe +it." + +"And why not, pray?" she asked, not without embarrassment, to cover +which she walked across the room to the fireplace, and occupied herself +with stirring into a blaze the fire, which was hardly needed, for +though it was October, the night was warm. + +He was silent. Sidney Althorp had a way of being silent when most men +would have spoken, and his silences were very eloquent. Maud had no +difficulty in interpreting the meaning of this one. + +"I suppose," she said, "you think that now Aunt Helen is gone I ought +not to leave papa." + +"Do you not think so yourself?" he asked, turning upon her one of his +grave, searching glances. + +Maud's eyes fell beneath it, but she answered boldly, "No, I do not. It +is not my fault that Aunt Helen has chosen to get married, and I do not +see why I should be punished for it." + +"You call it a punishment to spend your winter here with your father?" + +"For me it would be that. Why should you look surprised? You know how I +love Art, how I have set my heart on having a studio in Rome." + +"Yes, I know," he said slowly; "but I should have thought—pardon +me—that there were other considerations." + +"You mean that it is my 'duty' to stay with my father," broke in Maud +impetuously as he paused. "When people want to make one do anything +unpleasant, they always use that word. But I cannot see that it is my +duty to waste my life. My father will be very comfortable without me. +We have excellent servants, and Rudd can be trusted to look after all +his needs. You know how little my father is at home. He will not miss +me much." + +"I think you are mistaken," said Althorp, gently, "and that he will +miss you more than you imagine. Because he is so many hours away from +home, it is the more desirable that he should find his home bright and +cheerful when he returns to it." + +Maud was growing more irritated with every word he uttered. + +"Of course you think me wrong," she said; "you always do. You love to +pose as my mentor. But you must allow me to decide this matter for +myself. You have no right to judge for me." + +The colour rose into Sidney Althorp's face as she spoke. He was pained +by her words, and his expression showed it. + +"Assuredly," he said, rather proudly, "I have no right to judge you. +You mistake me if you think I would presume to do so. You have given +your own interpretation to my words. I never said that you were wrong." + +"No, but you thought it," she rejoined. + +Ere he could reply, if he had any reply to make, Mr. Marian entered the +room. + +Maud rang the bell for coffee, and when the servant brought it, she +occupied herself with her cup, and vouchsafed neither word nor look to +Sidney Althorp. In her inmost heart she knew that she had been rude to +him, that her words had hurt him, but she preferred to regard herself +as an injured person. + +In a few minutes, Althorp came to bid her good-night. His voice was as +gentle and his glance as kind as if nothing had occurred to disturb +their intercourse, and in spite of herself Maud was bound to smile and +respond with an appearance of cordiality. + +"Sidney is a good fellow," remarked her father when he had gone. + +Maud bit her lips and was silent. + +"It is a kind of goodness that always puts me in a rage," she thought. +The immediate effect of Althorp's slight, indirect remonstrance was to +make her more than ever determined to have her own way. + + +"Papa, darling," she said a little later, seating herself by his side +and assuming her most coaxing manner, "you will let me go to Rome, +won't you? You don't know how I feel about it. I should be miserable if +I were disappointed after counting upon it so long." + +"Would you?" he said, regarding her wistfully. "You could not give up +your own way for once for the sake of your poor old father?" + +"I would give up anything else, papa, but not this—not my Art." + +"Well, well, then it must be so, I suppose," he said with an air of +resignation. "But how I shall get through the winter all alone in this +great empty house I cannot tell." + +"The time will soon pass, papa; I shall return in the spring." + +"We must find some one to go with you. You cannot live in Rome alone." + +"Oh, I should go to a pension," said Maud. "But still of course if you +wish—" + +"Certainly I wish it—you must have a companion. How would Miss Richmond +do?" + +"Oh, papa, that terribly fussy old maid! I could not endure her for a +week." + +"I wonder if Mrs. King would be willing to go with you." + +"Mrs. King! A widow of nearly fifty! Papa, you have the strangest ideas +of a companion." + +"Well, can you suggest anyone?" + +"Not at a moment's notice. We must enquire of friends, and if that +fails, we can advertise." + +"I have it," said Mr. Marian, after he had been silently thinking +for some minutes. "My cousin, John Mildmay, has several girls and +not very much money to spend upon them. There is one about your own +age, I believe. I'll be bound that she would be only too delighted to +accompany you to Rome." + +"The Mildmays?" said Maud. "Do you mean those people we met at +Ilfracombe some years ago, and you found out they were cousins of +yours? I remember there was one girl I liked very much. Her name was +Enid. We talked of inviting her here, but we never did so. I believe I +should like her for a companion." + +"Very well, then; I will write to Mildmay about it to-morrow. How soon +do you think of going, Maud?" + +"Early in next month, papa." + +"So soon! You will surely wait till your aunt returns?" + +"Yes, I suppose I must," said Maud. + +In truth, she would have liked to get away before her aunt's return, +as she knew that her aunt was not likely to approve of her leaving her +father. Aunt Helen had either forgotten the plans Maud had formed for +the approaching winter, or she had taken it for granted that they would +now be abandoned. Maud had deemed it wisest to avoid all reference to +them during the busy weeks that preceded the wedding. + +"Thank you very much, papa," said Maud as she bade him good-night. "It +is very good of you to let me go. You will not regret it when you see +the results of my work during those months at Rome. I hope to bring you +home such paintings as will make you proud of me." + +"Ah, my dear, I should be prouder of you if you were willing to stay +with me than any picture you could paint would make me," said her +father with a sigh. + +He did not say the words unkindly, but they stung Maud nevertheless. + +"You have no ambition, papa; you cannot rightly appreciate Art," she +said impatiently, as she went away. + +She had won her point, but after all it did not yield her great +satisfaction. She had been intensely eager to go to Rome, but now +that the prospect was assured, she found to her surprise that the +anticipation was not wholly delightful. A drop of bitterness had been +instilled into it by that unwelcome suggestion concerning duty. + +"It is all Sidney Althorp's fault," she said to herself as she tossed +on her pillow, unable to sleep. "I wish he had not come this evening. +He always says things that make me uncomfortable. I should be quite +happy about going if he had not interfered." + +And yet in truth how little had Sidney Althorp said! + + + +CHAPTER II + +A STARTLING PROPOSAL + +IN a large old-fashioned house in one of the quietest of the many dull +streets of Devonport lived, as a brass plate on the door announced to +the passerby, Dr. Mildmay. The two windows at the left of the door, +looking into the street and screened by brown wire blinds, belonged to +the dining-room. Within the room, at an early hour on a certain October +morning, a girl was standing. She was close to the further window, but +she was not looking out. Her back was towards the light, and she was +giving all her attention to the easel before her, which held the little +painting on which she was at work. A cluster of blackberries with a few +brilliant bramble leaves, arranged on a table beyond, was what she was +striving to represent. + +The girl's slight form was below the middle height, but +well-proportioned, and not without grace. She had brown hair, brown +eyes, and a healthy brown skin. The eyes, shaded by unusually long +lashes, were really pretty; the neat coil of shining braids, formed by +her abundant brown hair, called for admiration; but otherwise there was +nothing remarkable in her appearance save the bright, almost boyish, +frankness of her expression. As the clock on the mantelpiece struck +eight, she ceased painting and began to wash her brushes. A few minutes +later, another girl entered the room. + +"Well, I declare, Enid!" she exclaimed, as she saw her sister's +occupation. "What industry! How long have you been at work, pray?" + +"Since seven," said Enid, laying down her brushes, and retiring a +little to contemplate her work. "How does it look to you, Alice?" + +"Beautiful!" said Alice, who had a profound admiration for everything +Enid did. "You have got the colour of those leaves splendidly." + +"Do you think so?" said Enid in a dissatisfied tone. "I fancy my colour +is too crude. But then the leaves fade so quickly. They are not nearly +so bright as when I picked them yesterday." + +"No; and the fruit is turning red," said Alice. "However, you have done +your best, and the result is very good, I think." + +With that she turned to the dining-table, which was already prepared +for breakfast save for a few items which Alice hastened to supply. She +was taller and stouter than her sister, and though a year younger than +Enid, might have passed for the elder. + +The girls' dispositions differed widely, but they were good friends +nevertheless. Alice was of an eminently practical turn of mind, fond of +homely occupations, full of energy, and disposed to regard everything +from the most matter-of-fact point of view. Enid too was gifted +with good common-sense, but in her case it was tempered by a fine +imagination and a certain ideality of character. Alice often accused +her sister of romantic tendencies, and not without reason; but romance +is not folly, as she perhaps thought. The world owes something to the +pure, tender fancies of a young girl's mind. It was good that Enid's +heart should crave beauty, and seek it wherever it might be found. Such +a one cannot live "by bread alone," but needs the Divine Word, whether +uttered by poet, or painter, or the voice of Nature herself. + +"How late everyone is this morning," said Enid, as she moved her easel +and placed it against the wall. "Ah! Here come the boys." + +The sound of a stampede from the top of the house to the bottom was +followed by the entrance of two boys, the younger of whom was ten years +old. A voice from the top of the stairs sternly rebuked them for making +so much noise, and a few seconds later Dr. Mildmay himself appeared. + +"Your mother has one of her bad headaches," he said, addressing his +daughters. "She will not get up just yet." + +Enid instantly began to prepare a tray to carry upstairs. Alice took +her place at the head of the table, her father seated himself opposite +to her, and the meal began. Dr. Mildmay had three more girls, but one +was away on a visit and the other two were at boarding-school. He was +rich in daughters. + +Enid carried her mother's tea and toast upstairs, and was gone some +minutes. Meanwhile, the postman arrived. There was a letter for Alice +as well as several for her father. She was engaged with hers when her +father suddenly roused her by exclaiming in surprised tones,— + +"Well, this is a strange thing, to be sure!" + +"What is strange, father?" + +"Why, here is a letter from my cousin James Marian, who scarcely ever +troubles himself to remember my existence. It is extraordinary that he +should write to me at all; but what is more astonishing, he actually +writes to ask if I will let Enid go to Rome with his daughter." + +"Enid go to Rome!" Alice's surprise could not be greater. + +"Yes; it appears that Miss Marian is somewhat of an artist, and intends +to pass the winter in Rome for the sake of prosecuting her art. He +wishes to secure a companion for her." + +"Oh, father! Enid would like it above all things." + +"I dare say," said Dr. Mildmay drily. "But unfortunately there are +other considerations. I wonder what made him think of my Enid." + +"Perhaps his daughter suggested her," said Alice. "Don't you remember, +that time we met them at Ilfracombe, she talked a good deal to Enid, +and seemed rather taken with her?" + +"Did we meet them at Ilfracombe? I had forgotten." + +"Why, yes, father. They were staying at the Grand Hotel. You said that +you barely knew him at first, he was so altered from what he had been +when you saw him last." + +"Ah, yes! I remember all about it now. The girl was Enid's age, I +believe." + +"Older, father. She must be twenty-three, and Enid is not yet +twenty-one." + +"But she soon will be. That is no great difference. It would be a +thorough change for Enid if I let her go." + +"It would indeed," said Alice. "I suppose it would cost a lot of money." + +"Oh, as for that, Marian says it shall cost me nothing. I shall 'lay +him under a great obligation' if I allow Enid to accompany her cousin. +He writes a very kind letter." + +"If it is to cost you nothing, why should you hesitate?" asked Alice, +raising her eyebrows. "It would be a splendid thing for Enid." + +"That depends," said Dr. Mildmay. "It is not a thing to be settled +off-hand. I must talk to your mother about it." + +At that moment Enid came back into the room. + +"Enid," called out her youngest brother, "you are to go to Rome." + +"Why to Rome, of all places?" she asked, thinking he was joking. + +"How would you like to pass the winter in Rome?" asked her father, +turning his eyes upon her. + +"I only wish I had the chance," said Enid as she sat down. "Whatever +makes you ask me such a question?" + +"Because you have the chance," burst in Alice, unable to keep back the +news. "Mr. Marian has written to ask father to let you go." + +Enid's amazement was intense. She grew pale with excitement as Mr. +Marian's proposal was more fully explained to her. To go to Rome, the +grand old city that is like no other, with its solemn, awe-inspiring +ruins, its relics of departed greatness, and its priceless art +treasures; to Rome, the fount of beauty, the ideal school of artists, +the loved haunt of poets! It seemed too good to be true that such an +idea could even be mentioned in connection with herself. + +Long after their father had gone off to his consulting-room, and the +boys had started for school, the girls still sat at the breakfast-table +discussing the wonderful possibility. + +"Cook will lose her temper if I do not soon go and tell her about +dinner," said Alice at length rising from the table. "Just look at the +time! What am I thinking of to sit here like this!" + +And she hurried away to attend to her domestic duties. She undertook +the housekeeping under the supervision of her mother, who was not +strong enough to do much herself. + +Enid went to her mother's room. Before going to his patients, Dr. +Mildmay had made time to run upstairs and communicate to his wife +the contents of his cousin's letter. Enid found her mother almost as +excited about it as she was herself. + +Mrs. Mildmay was a nervous, delicate, sensitive woman. Enid had her +mother's eyes, but not the fine contour of her face and her faultless +features. Mrs. Mildmay was glad that it was so. She rejoiced in the +round, rosy faces of her children. She would far rather they were +homely in appearance than that any of them should have inherited with +her highly refined features, the sensitive nerves, which at times made +her life a burden to her. + +Enid happily knew nothing of such suffering; but in many respects she +resembled her mother. The two understood each other perfectly. Mrs. +Mildmay warmly loved all her children; Alice was her right hand in +all practical matters; but Enid was united to her by a closer bond of +confidence and sympathy. Their tastes were similar. Mrs. Mildmay was +a highly-cultured woman. She read largely, and her reading extended +over a wide circle, embracing, with the scientific works dear to her +husband, works of philosophy, poetry, and general literature in which +he took no interest. His temper of mind being purely scientific, it +followed that she understood him better than he understood her. Enid in +some respects came nearer to her than he did. She could talk to this +child as she could not talk to him, and it was little wonder that her +heart clung fondly to Enid. + +Enid entered the darkened room with noiseless step; but her mother's +eyes were wide open and very bright, and there was a flush on her worn +cheek. + +"Ah, Enid!" she said, lifting her head. "This is a startling proposal, +is it not? Oh, you need not tell me—I know how you feel about it. Of +course you want to go." + +"I should like to go immensely," said Enid. "I cannot help hoping that +you and father will agree to let me go." + +"To be sure. It is a grand opportunity for you. It has been the wish +of my life to see Rome; but I shall never see it now. If you went, you +would tell me about it, and I should see it with your eyes. So there is +some selfishness in my wish that you should go. Yet I shrink from the +thought of your going so far from me. If you should be ill or unhappy! +There is that dreadful malaria—" + +"I should not be afraid of that," said Enid. "I have heard it said +that, with ordinary prudence, no one need dread the fever." + +"Certainly you have always had good health," said Mrs. Mildmay; "you +are not like me, I am thankful to say." She put her hand to her head +with an expression of pain. + +"Lie down, mother," said Enid; "we had better not talk about it now. +You will make your head worse." + +"In a minute, dear. I was going to say that this proposal offers you +great advantages. I told your father so. You will get on with your +drawing. I think you have decided talent, and I have often wished +that you could have a better chance of cultivating it. We must manage +somehow for you to have lessons in Rome." + +"Oh, mother, how good of you! I have been thinking about my drawing." + +"My dear, it is only right that we should do all we can for you. +Your father is not rich, and we wish all our girls to be thoroughly +educated, so that they may be able to support themselves in coming +years, if it be necessary. Clara, I think, must make music her special +study. Alice, dear girl, will always be able to employ herself in a +variety of ways, and as long as the home lasts, we shall want her here. +We cannot tell yet what the younger ones will be fit for. But you must +cultivate your taste for painting." + +"I am glad you think so," said Enid. "But now you really must rest." + +For the feverish colour was deepening in her mother's cheek, and Enid +knew well how bad for her was the excitement she manifested. + +"And then there is the language," Mrs. Mildmay went on, without heeding +her words: "of course you must learn to speak Italian whilst you are +there. It is easy to acquire a language when you hear every one about +you speaking it. I studied Italian when I was a girl. I used to read +Dante in the original; but of course I never learned to speak the +language. I must look for my Italian books, and see whether I can help +you to get some notion of the grammar before you go." + +"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Enid, joyfully. "You talk as if you really +thought I should go." + +"Yes, I fancy we shall have to let you go," said her mother with a +smile. Then with a change of countenance, she added, "But how I shall +miss you, child!" She lay back on her pillow, unable longer to combat +with the increased pain excitement had produced. Enid knew that there +was no remedy save perfect quietude, so she kissed her mother and went +away. + + +Enid was not left long in doubt as to her father's decision. On the +following day, he wrote to accept the proposal made by Mr. Marian. + +Two days later, Enid received a bright, friendly letter from her +cousin, who expressed much pleasure at the idea of having her company, +and drew a glowing picture of the delights that awaited them at Rome. +They were to start in three weeks' time, so Enid had enough to do to +get ready for her departure. + +Alice rose to the occasion, and worked indefatigably for her sister's +benefit. The amount of sewing she managed to get through, and the +ingenuity she displayed in every difficulty, were astonishing. There +was nothing in the event to disturb the balance of her mind; but Enid +was like one in a dream all the time, and would have forgotten half the +things she needed if Alice had not continually jogged her memory. + +Yet it was with a delightful sense of elation that Enid made her +preparations for the journey. As she bade her friends good-bye, every +one congratulated her on the prospect before her. Some even expressed +pity for Alice because she was not going too; but that contented young +woman would have none of their commiseration. She had no desire to +travel; but she knew that it was what Enid had always longed for, and +she was very glad she should have the pleasure. + +But in spite of the pleasure she anticipated, it was hard for Enid when +the eve of her departure came. A reaction set in then; her heart failed +her at the thought of going so far from those she loved, and for a +brief period she almost wished that the idea of her wintering in Rome +had never been entertained. + +Tears were not far from Enid's eyes as she bade her mother good-night. +And the parting the next morning was painful, but for Enid it was +a pain which did not last long. Her father had decided to take her +up to town himself. It was rarely he took a holiday; but he was not +particularly busy at this time, and he felt it would be pleasant to +renew his acquaintance with his cousin Marian, and see the girls start +on their long journey two days later. + +The express had not run far from Devonport ere Enid was chatting gaily +with her father about Rome. As generally happens, it was those left +behind who felt the parting most. Mrs. Mildmay shut herself in her +room for an hour after Enid had gone, and when she reappeared, her +eyelids were suspiciously red. Even Alice, whose cheerfulness rarely +fluctuated, was conscious of a blank, dreary feeling after her sister's +departure, and had to set about the rearrangement of Enid's room, +disordered by the exigencies of packing, with the utmost energy in +order to regain her usual equanimity. Enid Mildmay was not a girl who +could leave her home without being missed. + + + +CHAPTER III + +AT ROME + +A YOUNG girl was standing on the highest gallery of the Colosseum. +Every detail of her attire, from the simple felt hat, which could +defy any weather, to the stout boots made for hard work, as well as a +certain air of unconscious ease and strength which marked her bearing, +proclaimed her to be English. At least so thought a young man who had +just stepped on to the platform from one of the flights of stone steps, +to find this young lady the only other occupant. + +She did not hear him approach, and had no eyes for him as she stood +gazing down into the vast area, or across it at the far-stretching +prospect beyond. Now and then her eyes fell on the red-covered +guidebook she carried, and she turned a page or two with rather a +dissatisfied look, but there was no discontent in her expression as her +glance again wandered over the mighty ruin. The Colosseum was all Enid +Mildmay had expected it to be, and more. She had felt bewildered as she +walked down from the Capitol, passing the old Forum and an astonishing +number of ruins of temples, palaces, archways, till she found herself +at the Colosseum. + +Only that morning had she arrived in Rome, and everything seemed new +and strange till she came within these grand old walls, the form of +which, as represented by picture and photograph, had been familiar to +her from her childhood. Yet how different was the reality from anything +she had imagined! How much vaster the proportions; how much more +stupendous the strength of this marvellous relic of a bygone age than +she could possibly have conceived! And then the solemn beauty of it all +as she saw it now, when the broken masses of pale brown wall above her +were outlined against a sky of softest blue, and a deeper blue filled +in the distant arches, when in the clear atmosphere every detail of the +vast circumference was clearly visible, and she could look down and +trace the corridors and the flights of steps by which the spectators +had entered, and the places where tiers upon tiers of seats had been, +and even the subterranean passages which ran beneath the arena. +Mingling with the deep interest she felt was a sensation of wonder +that she, Enid Mildmay, who less than a month ago had been living +her uneventful home life at Devonport without a thought of seeing +Rome, should stand on this November afternoon within the world-famous +Colosseum. + +But presently Enid forgot herself as her mind went back into the past, +and she tried to picture the scenes that had taken place within that +vast building. For a brief moment, she seemed to see the huge circle +lined with rows of eager spectators; they filled the seats rising tier +after tier from the arena; they crowded up the numerous stairs; there +were proud Roman ladies and fair girls, shrinking back, yet gazing +with fascinated eyes at the brutal sport enacted below; there was the +emperor on his marble throne beneath a gorgeous canopy; noble youths +and wealthy courtiers surrounded him; whilst from far above, the common +people, and the sailors employed to unfurl the awning when required, +looked down intent and excited on the dust and turmoil and cruel strife +of the arena. + +And the shows had not been merely gladiatorial. It was not enough that +men hired for the purpose should risk their lives in contests with wild +beasts. To gratify the bloodthirsty passions of the Roman populace, +faithful adherents of the sect "everywhere spoken against" here won +their martyr's crown amid the frantic shouts of a brutal mob. Enid +thought of St. Ignatius, the first of those martyred souls, and of St. +Prisca, here exposed to a lion which refused to touch her, and who, +after three days of unspeakable torture, perished finally by the axe. A +feeling of awe came over her with the thought, and for a moment a mist +rose before her eyes and hid the arena, which she felt to be sacred +ground. + +Meanwhile, Julius Dakin stood motionless at the top of the flight of +steps by which he had ascended. The Colosseum was not new to him. He +was familiar with every aspect of the grand old walls; and though he +had climbed to the highest platform for the sake of enjoying, on this +bright afternoon, the prospect it commanded, it now pleased him better +to look at Enid. He could read the meaning of her rapt, earnest look. +He was wont to meet many tourists. Not seldom it was his agreeable +duty to show to English and American ladies the famous ruins of Rome. +He knew the kind of remarks he might expect from them; frequently he +drew covert amusement from their pretended raptures or unconscious +revelations of ignorance; but now he saw at a glance that Enid was a +genuine enthusiast. Nor was that all he saw. + +"I know a nice girl when I see her," he said to himself, "and I mean to +make the acquaintance of this one." + +How he could do so without overstepping the restraints of gentlemanly +decorum did not appear. Enid's neat little form expressed a dignity +which would be swift to repel presumption. Various pretexts for +addressing her presented themselves to Julius' quick mind, and were +rejected as unsuitable. He had not stood there many moments revolving +such ideas when Enid, in spite of her absorption, felt the attraction +of his gaze and turned. Their eyes met in that full, perfect gaze which +is invariably felt as a surprise, and usually communicates to each a +thrill, either pleasurable or the reverse. + +A shade of melancholy still lingered on Enid's face, and she read in +the dark eyes that met hers an answering gravity, a strange, gentle +sympathy so powerful that she felt as if she were gazing into the face +of a friend, and scarce voluntarily exclaimed, "Oh, what a place this +is!" + +Scarcely had the words passed her lips ere she was astonished at +herself. Enid had been carefully, though not prudishly, trained. Unlike +Italian mothers, who can never trust their girls out of their sight, +Mrs. Mildmay had never the slightest doubt that Enid would on any and +every occasion conduct herself as became a lady. She was the last girl +likely to scrape an acquaintance with anyone on a chance meeting like +this. But everyone who lives vividly, and has strong emotions, knows +what it is to be suddenly moved by strange circumstances to a quick, +impulsive act before which one's past self stands amazed. The colour +rose in Enid's face, and she felt dreadfully ashamed as she realised +how unconventional, to say the least of it, was her behaviour in thus +addressing a stranger. + +But if Julius Dakin felt some surprise at her speaking to him, he was +far too well-bred to let it appear. He raised his hat and stepped +forward with the utmost courtesy. It was generally conceded by his +female acquaintance that Dakin's manners were perfection, for in his +case an Italian grace of bearing was grafted upon the manly and sincere +deference for women which marks the Anglo-Saxon. + +"It is indeed a place like no other," he replied easily. "In all +Rome—and I may claim to know Rome pretty thoroughly—I find nothing that +surpasses it in grandeur, and interest. 'Second to nought observable in +Rome' it is—to quote Browning." + +"But he says that of a picture, does he not?" asked Enid. + +"Yes—of Guido Reni's Crucifixion in San Lorenzo in Lucina. You have not +seen it?" + +"I only arrived in Rome this morning," said Enid. + +"And it is your first visit? Then you have much to see and much +enjoyment before you. I almost envy you the vividness and charm of +first impressions." + +Enid stole a curious glance at her companion. She was surely not +mistaken in thinking him an Englishman, and yet her ear detected +something unusual in the way he spoke her language. It was rather an +intonation than an accent which she observed. His appearance told her +nothing. He had dark hair and eyes, but his complexion was not darker +than that of many an Englishman. + +His features were good, and he had a certain winning brightness of +expression. Enid could not but admire his tall, well-built form, nor +did it escape her observation that he was exceedingly well dressed, +though there was no sign of foppishness in his attire. She was about +to bid him good-day and leave him, when he, perhaps discerning her +intention, said quickly— + +"When I tell you that I have lived in Rome the greater part of my life, +you will understand how familiar all this is to me. Will you allow me +to act as showman, and point out to you the principal objects to be +seen from here?" + +"Indeed, I shall be much obliged to you if you will," said Enid. "I can +make out very little, even with 'Baedeker's' help. Am I right in taking +this hill on the right with the broken arches for the Palatine?" + +"Yes; those picturesque ruins belong to the palaces of the Cæsars. +That hill on your left is the Cœlian. Those brown buildings with the +square tower are the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo and the monastery +connected with it. The round building is the church of S. Stefano +Rotondo. You must be sure to visit the Cœlian during your visit. I hope +it is to be a long one, for it is impossible really to see Rome in a +few weeks." + +"I have come for the winter," said Enid. + +"Ah, that is right," said the young man, with a look of pleasure. "Now +see between these two hills what a fine view we have of the Campagna. +Yonder, where the blue distance melts into the white glow of the +horizon, is the sea." + +"What is that pyramid which rises there?" asked Enid, indicating the +direction with her hand. + +"That is the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, a Roman tribune. It was raised +by Agrippa to his memory, and is a tolerably substantial kind of +sepulchre. You will see it nearer one of these days." + +So they talked on, and as he gave her the information she needed, and +led her from one point of interest to another, Enid almost forgot +that she knew nothing of him save the credentials of good breeding +conspicuous in his bearing. If anyone had told her that she would spend +part of her first afternoon in Rome in talking and walking about the +Colosseum with a strange gentleman, to whom she had not even had an +introduction, she would have declared such a thing impossible. But the +stranger's perfect courtesy prevented her from feeling any awkwardness; +and when at length she decided that she could not remain longer, he +bade her good-day without betraying the least curiosity concerning her, +or any desire to thrust himself further on her notice. + +"He certainly is a gentleman," said Enid to herself, as she went on her +way. "But what could have induced me to speak to him first? I hope he +did not think me forward." + +Her colour deepened with the thought. + +"Somehow I seemed to know him; I had a sort of idea that he was +feeling as I was. What would mother say to it? What will Maud say? +For of course I shall tell her. I am not ashamed of what I have done, +though perhaps—. No, I do not see why I should be ashamed. I meant no +harm; and yet I wish I had not done it. Mother is right; I am far too +impulsive in my conduct. I wonder if I shall ever see him again? I dare +say not. And what should I do if we did meet? I could not speak to him, +for I do not know him; and yet, after his kindness to-day, it seems +discourteous to give him no sort of recognition. I almost hope I may +not see him; and yet—perhaps it was my fancy—but I really thought he +looked glad when I said that I had come to pass the winter at Rome." + +When Enid reached the "pension" in which Miss Marian had established +herself, she learned that the young lady, whom she had left reposing +after the fatigue of the journey, had since risen and gone out with a +friend. Enid therefore set to work to unpack and arrange her things. + +She had finished her arrangements and was making her toilette for +dinner when Maud appeared. + +She came in with an elated air. + +"Oh, Enid, I hope you have not minded being left to yourself so long. +Miss Merriman called to tell me of a delightful studio which is to let +in the Via Sistina. She did not know whether I had yet arrived, but +looked in on the chance; and I am very glad she did, for I would not +miss getting this studio for the world. Even now it is not certain +whether I can have it, for there is another artist in negotiation for +it. But I mean to outbid him if I can." + +"Is the studio near here?" asked Enid. + +"Oh yes—hardly five minutes' walk. It is a large room with a splendid +light, and I see my way to arranging it charmingly. Just beyond, at +the end of the passage, a flight of steps leads down into the most +delightful old garden, with orange trees and an old fountain and +statues—without noses, of course, but that only gives them a truer air +of antiquity—and I shall be able to paint there when the weather is +fine. I have already a grand idea for a picture. But I must not stay +talking here when it is almost dinner-time. Come to me, Enid, as soon +as you are ready." And she hurried away. + +The bell rang for dinner as Enid crossed the corridor to her cousin's +room. Maud was hurriedly fastening her gown, and had no time for words; +but as they passed out of the room she said carelessly— + +"And where have you been this afternoon, Enid?" + +"I found my way to the Colosseum," replied Enid. + +"Oh, the Colosseum. New-comers are always eager to see that. For my +part, I am rather tired of the Colosseum." + +"I do not think I can ever tire of it," said Enid. + +By that time, they were at the dining-room, for the rooms being all on +one floor were not far apart. Enid had had no opportunity of telling +her cousin of her afternoon's experience. + +As soon as dinner ended, Maud said, "Enid, I am going straight to bed, +for I begin to be aware that a night on the railway, even though it be +in a 'train de luxe,' does not afford one thorough rest." + +Enid too was feeling the need of sleep, so without more words they said +good-night, and retired to their rooms. + + +Maud Marian was certainly not lacking in energy. When Enid came out of +her room the next morning, she met her cousin in the passage dressed to +go out. + +"You will not mind my leaving you this morning, Enid?" she said. "I +must go and see the 'padrone' again about that studio, and afterwards +I am going to my banker's. It would be dull for you to hang about with +me whilst I attended to my business. I am sure you would rather go +sight-seeing." + +"Thank you, I think I would," said Enid. "I am longing to see St. +Peter's if I can find my way thither." + +"Nothing easier. Signora Grassi will tell you your way to the piazza, +where you can take an omnibus for San Pietro. Good-bye; take care of +yourself. We shall meet at luncheon." + +So Enid again went out alone, and managed to pass the forenoon very +pleasantly without meeting with any misadventure. Maud was in excellent +spirits when they met at luncheon. She believed that the studio was +hers, though there were still some formalities to be observed ere she +could take possession of it. + +"And I have had the most delightful gossip with my banker, Mr. Dakin," +she said. "He has been telling me all the news of Rome. I must +introduce you to him some day, Enid. He is a charming old gentleman." + +"An Englishman?" asked Enid. + +"Yes, and his wife is American. She is much younger than he, and a very +stylish woman. She is on a visit to New York just now." + +After luncheon both Maud and Enid had letters to write, and when that +duty was accomplished, Maud took Enid to the Pincio. + +It was a lovely afternoon, and Rome's fashionable resort wore its +gayest aspect. The blue sky, the warm sunshine, the appearance of the +leafy walks, and the wide terrace dotted with coloured parasols, made +the girls feel as if they had been carried back into summer. + +"What a change from London!" said Enid. "Do you remember the fog +through which we drove to the station, Maud?" + +"Yes, indeed," said Maud, with a smile. "Now do you think there is +anything unreasonable in my wishing to winter in Rome?" + +Enid could not say that there was. They went forward to the front of +the terrace, which commands a grand view over Rome, and Maud pointed +out to her cousin some of the more conspicuous buildings. The scene had +a fascination for Enid, and she could have lingered long looking over +the broad expanse of roofs and domes and away to the blue Campagna; but +Maud soon began to manifest interest in the carriages driving up and +the crowd gathering about the band-stand. + +"Let us go and see who is here," she said. "Many of my friends have not +yet returned to Rome, but I am sure to find someone I know." + +Nor was she mistaken. She was soon greeted by various acquaintances, +to whom she introduced her cousin. Maud's tall, slim form seemed to +attract much attention. She wore a grey gown of elegant simplicity, and +a little black velvet hat which set off admirably the ruddy gold of her +hair. Enid felt proud of her cousin, and did not wonder that everyone +who greeted her showed such pleasure at seeing her. In truth, Miss +Marian had been quite the belle of the English community in Rome during +the past winter. After Rumour had enhanced her personal attractions by +whispering that her father was immensely rich, and she was his only +child, everyone found her charming. People had made so much of her, +indeed, that it was little wonder she was eager to return to Rome. + +Maud received the many compliments paid her with self-possession; but +though she disclaimed any right to them, there was a sparkle in her eye +which betrayed that they yet gave her pleasure. She did not remain long +in conversation with anyone, but passed from group to group, observing +the while every carriage and rider that passed. + +"Come, Enid," she said, suddenly moving forward; "here is the Queen; +you must see her." + +A carriage, rendered conspicuous by the scarlet liveries of the +servants, came into sight. Enid saw a lady bowing and smiling +pleasantly from it to everyone she passed. + +"So that is the Queen," she said, as the scarlet coats disappeared in +the distance; "she looks very nice." + +"She is charming," said Maud; "not beautiful exactly, but what the +Italians call 'simpatica,' which is almost better, I think, than being +beautiful. Well, shall we walk on? There is no one particular here this +afternoon." + +"Why, you seem to have met ever so many people!" exclaimed Enid in +surprise. + +"Yes, everyone but those I should like to see," said Maud rather +petulantly. + +"Was there anyone you particularly wanted to see?" asked Enid. + +"Oh dear no. How literally you take all my words, Enid! I shall have to +be careful what I say to you." + +Enid was looking across the road to where the Queen's liveries still +gleamed through the trees. Suddenly she started, and the colour flew +into her. She had caught sight of a gentleman riding down a path which +opened from the trees on their right. The state of confusion into +which she was thrown by the appearance of this gentleman was for a +few minutes quite overwhelming. She had a momentary impulse to draw +Maud's attention to him, then felt it impossible to do so. Anxious +that he should not recognise her, she turned her head resolutely in +the opposite direction and gazed at the glorious cupola of St. Peter's +standing forth from the glowing sunset sky. + +The next moment, the band struck up a lively air, and the sudden clash +of instruments startled the gentleman's horse, causing it to plunge and +rear, so that he had to give all his attention to keeping his seat, and +had no eyes for the people about him. Touching it with the spurs, he +gave his steed the rein. Enid felt rather than saw that he dashed past +them at full gallop. But Maud was moving towards the balustrade, her +thoughts intent for the moment on the sunset, and she did not see the +rider. + +"How grand the dome looks now!" she observed. "I wish I dare attempt +to paint it, with such a glowing sky for background. But most of the +pictures one sees of St. Peter's against a red sky are wretched daubs." + +Enid did not reply. Her eyes were on the winding road below, on which a +rider now came in sight. + +"Maud," she said, rather nervously, "do you see that gentleman riding +below? Do you not think he rides like an Englishman?" + +Maud gave a quick glance and her colour deepened. "Of course; he is +English," she said. "I declare it is Julius Dakin! What can make him +leave the Pincio so soon? He cannot have been here many minutes, or I +should have seen him." + +She spoke with an air of disappointment. + +"Then you know him?" said Enid. + +"Certainly; he is a great friend of mine. He is the son of Mr. Dakin, +the banker of whom I was speaking this morning. He is an only child, +like myself, and somewhat of a spoilt child too; but still he is very +nice. I wish I had seen him. He would be sorry if he knew that I was up +here and he had missed me." + +Now was the time for Enid to tell her cousin of her meeting with +this gentleman at the Colosseum. But somehow she felt most reluctant +to speak of it. She could not understand why it was, but the words +her cousin had uttered concerning Julius Dakin made it seem all but +impossible to relate the manner in which she had already made his +acquaintance. So she faltered and hesitated, till another acquaintance +came up to claim Miss Marian's attention, and her opportunity was gone. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE INAUGURATION OF THE STUDIO + +MAUD succeeded in obtaining the studio on which she had set her heart, +and for the next fortnight she was engaged in the delightful occupation +of furnishing it. No considerations of expense restricted the +gratification of her artistic love of beautiful things. She searched +the shops and sale-rooms of Rome for quaint furniture, rare tapestries, +rugs, and costly fabrics of various kinds. She bought pictures, +statuettes, plaques, vases, in such numbers, that Enid, accustomed to +spend money carefully, was amazed at her cousin's extravagance. + +"If I have a studio at all, I must have an elegant one," Maud would say. + +She wanted to begin where most artists finish. She was ambitious of +having a studio which would compare with those of the famous painters +of Rome, whose art treasures had been slowly and lovingly accumulated +during many years of work. + +Enid did not always accompany her cousin on her shopping expeditions. +Sometimes Maud preferred to be accompanied by an artist friend, in +whose judgement she placed more confidence than in Enid's, whom she +did not credit with much taste or knowledge of artistic effects. Enid +was not sorry to be left free to go sight-seeing. With her "Baedeker" +as her guide, she spent many a delightful hour in wandering about the +neighbourhood of the Roman Forum and the Capitol. She did not again +meet Julius Dakin. + +Maud seemed often to meet him as she transacted her business. She came +home one morning in excellent spirits, and told Enid that she had met +Julius Dakin on her way to the shops, and he had been good enough to go +with her from place to place, and give her his opinion with regard to +various important purchases. + +"Is he an artist?" enquired Enid. + +"No; he only paints a little as an amateur; but he has perfect taste, +and understands art thoroughly." + +"Has he nothing to do, that he can afford to spend the whole morning in +attendance on a lady?" asked Enid. + +Maud shrugged her shoulders. "He is supposed, to help his father in +the bank, I believe," she said; "but I am sure I cannot tell when he +attends to business, for he goes everywhere, and one meets him out at +all hours." + +"I don't approve of a man who does nothing," said Enid, thinking of her +father's busy, hard-working life. + +"Oh, Julius Dakin is such a careless, light-hearted creature; the life +of a 'dilettante' suits him exactly. And there is no need for him to +work; his father has plenty of money, so what does it matter?" + +Enid was silent. She thought it mattered a great deal; but she hardly +knew how to explain her ideas on the subject to her cousin. + +When the workmen who had been employed upon the studio had finished +their tasks, and the time had come for the actual arrangement of the +room, Maud found her cousin of the utmost service. If Enid was not +so learned with respect to things rare and beautiful as her cousin, +she understood the simple, practical details on which the realisation +of Maud's ideas depended. With needle and cotton, or with hammer and +nails, she was equally skilful, and curtains were hung and fixtures +adjusted with a knack which astonished Maud. + +"I think it will about do," said that young lady at last, surveying +her room with an elated air. "The general effect is good. I am not +sure, though, that the Venus would not look better in this corner. Oh, +I do hope Julius Dakin will pronounce it good. He will see at once if +anything is out of harmony." + +"I don't believe he 'can' find much fault," said Enid, tired but well +pleased with the result of her labours. "Shall I bring forward this +other easel, Maud, or will you have it left here behind the screen?" + +"Oh, bring it forward," said Maud; "there should always be plenty of +easels visible in a studio. Besides, you will want one: you are to work +too, you know. Don't you remember I told your father I would make an +artist of you? And really those little paintings of yours are not bad; +you will do something good in time if you work. Put that blackberry +spray of yours on the easel." + +It seemed to Enid that there was only one objection to be made to +the studio, and that was that it was too elegant. There was too much +decoration, and not sufficient evidence of work. Everything, even to +the palettes and brushes, looked new, and the few sketches which Maud +had taken from her portfolio and pinned here and there about the walls +hardly appeared to come up to the standard which the room demanded. +There were some of Maud's more ambitious attempts handsomely framed +upon the walls; but Enid found herself looking at these with a sense +of regret that she could not admire them more. She supposed that they +represented Maud's earlier efforts, and that she had not yet seen her +cousin's best work. + +Almost every room in the large old-fashioned house in the Via Sistina +was let as a studio. As she went up or down the stairs—as in those busy +days of preparation she did many times in the day—Enid occasionally met +a middle-aged woman, small and pale, with a melancholy expression, and +whose dress was not only shabby but exceedingly odd in its style. There +were many curious turns and twists in the old house, and one day Enid +saw this woman pass along a narrow passage turning off from the main +staircase and enter a room marked "Studio No. 8." + +"Maud," she said, when she returned to her cousin, "do you know who has +Studio No. 8 in this house?" + +"No. 8," said Maud; "I believe that is Miss Strutt's. She is a thorough +old maid; one of the queerest-looking creatures you ever saw." + +"Then it was she I met on the stairs," said Enid. "Does she live at her +studio? For I believe she was carrying a loaf when I met her." + +"Yes, she lives there, if you can call it living, for they say she is +as poor as a church mouse. She is a Scotch-woman. I hope you admired +the fashion of her dress. Someone told me that she was once about to be +married, and had her 'trousseau' all ready, when the match was broken +off, and she has been wearing her wedding gowns ever since. I am sure +the one I last saw her in looked as if it might have been made fifty +years ago." + +"Poor thing!" said Enid. "She must be dreadfully lonely if she lives +there by herself. Has she no friends in Rome?" + +"I can't say, I am sure," replied Maud. "Everyone who speaks to me +about her seems to regard her as a kind of joke." + +"What is her painting like?" + +"Nothing remarkable. She paints in water-colour. By-the-by, I heard she +had several pictures in the last 'Esposizione dei Belli Arti,' and they +were highly commended, so I suppose she can sell her work. Perhaps she +is miserly." + +The next time Enid met Miss Strutt on the stairs she ventured to utter +a "Good-day." + +The poor artist looked up in surprise, and a faint tinge of colour +appeared on her worn cheek as she returned the greeting of the English +girl. + +Maud had lost no time in issuing to her friends cards intimating the +day on which she would be "At home" at her studio. She had talked so +much about her studio that people were curious to see it, and when the +day arrived she had quite a crowd of visitors. One of the earliest to +enter was Julius Dakin. Maud welcomed him with one of her most winning +smiles. + +"Now you have come to criticise. I know," she said, "and I give you +leave to say what you like. Look round and tell me just what you think +of things, and suggest any improvements that occur to you. But first +allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Enid Mildmay." + +Enid was busying herself at the tea-table. She had not looked up at +the sound of Julius Dakin's voice, though she had known in an instant +that it was he who entered. She was not subject to nervousness, but her +hands were rather unsteady as she tried to kindle the spirit-lamp, and +she was conscious of a strange sensation of shyness. + +Her colour deepened as she met the look of surprise and pleasure which +came into the young man's eyes. Maud saw it and was astonished. + +"I think we have met before, Miss Mildmay, and at a more famous place," +he said easily, "though who knows how famous this studio of Miss +Marian's is destined to become?" + +"What!" said Maud, amazed. "You have met Enid before!" + +"Yes," murmured Enid, in some confusion, "I met Mr. Dakin at the +Colosseum on the day of our arrival in Rome." + +"And Miss Mildmay was good enough to allow me to act as her guide," +added Dakin. "You know how proud I am of my knowledge of the ruins, +since, unlike most of the inhabitants of Rome, I have really made a +study of them." + +Maud felt an annoyance which she could hardly conceal. But as Julius +Dakin began to admire her studio, and delicately insinuate compliments +on her good taste, the cloud faded from her brow. + +More visitors arrived, everyone ready to admire the room and compliment +the fair owner. For some time Enid was kept busy at the tea-table, +whilst Julius Dakin made himself useful in handing the cups to and +fro. At last, when everyone was supplied, there was a pause of a few +minutes, and Enid had leisure to observe the social qualities which +Julius Dakin was displaying. He seemed a different being as she watched +him now from the man who had explained to her every point of interest +attaching to the Colosseum. What an inexhaustible supply of small talk +he seemed to possess! What nonsense too he talked; and yet it was a +clever kind of nonsense. It was clear that he was a great favourite +with the ladies present, and no wonder, Enid thought, as she heard +some of the words he addressed to them. Now he was admiring the pretty +gown worn by a girl present, and subtly suggesting to her that it was +becoming; now he was talking to a young mother of her fine boy; and now +congratulating a rather worn-looking spinster who wore glasses on the +hanging of one of her pictures at a recent exhibition. + +"He aims at making himself generally agreeable," thought Enid. "I shall +know what it means when he pays me compliments." + +The next moment he was at her side. Catching sight of the easel Enid +had drawn into the corner by the tea-table, hoping it would escape +observation, he said, "Miss Marian did not paint that?" + +"No," said Enid, "that is an attempt of mine. Don't look at it, please." + +"Indeed, I must look at it. It is very good. The bloom of the fruit and +the colour of the leaves is excellent. It is really—" he lowered his +voice—"the best thing of the kind in the room." + +Enid coloured. + +"Oh, please don't," she said hurriedly. "I hate to be complimented." + +"But I am not uttering an empty compliment," he said, looking at her. +"What! You do not believe me?" + +"I think you are clever at making pretty speeches, Mr. Dakin." + +He laughed, and evidently felt complimented. + +"So you have been taking notes, I see. That is the way with you quiet +people. But surely one is bound to try to make oneself agreeable, and +ladies as a rule like that kind of thing." + +"And men are quite superior to it, I suppose?" said Enid mischievously. + +"Oh, of course," he said, laughing again. "But really, Miss Mildmay, +you mistake me if you think I was not speaking sincerely when I said +that was the best thing in the room." + +"And yet you would not tell Maud that." + +"Why should I? It would be most 'gauche' to do so, now I know it is +not her work. Surely one may have regard for truth without saying with +brutal frankness exactly what one thinks?" + +"Well, yes, I suppose one must exercise some reserve," said Enid. "Yet +I like people who say straight out what they mean, even though they are +sometimes guilty of bluntness." + +"Then I will try to please you in that respect, Miss Mildmay. I promise +you I will pay you no compliment from henceforth save that involved in +telling you the exact truth on every occasion." + +"Thank you," said Enid. "I assure you I shall consider that a +compliment. But who is this gentleman?" she asked, glancing at one +who had just entered the studio, and whom Maud was welcoming with +enthusiasm. "He is surely an artist?" + +"He is," replied Dakin, "and one of the most distinguished in Rome. He +will please you, Miss Mildmay, for Herr Schmitz is famous for saying on +every occasion exactly what he thinks. Really I wonder at Miss Marian's +audacity in sending him an invitation." + +The painter was a man of short, thick-set figure, with a large leonine +head covered with abundant grizzly hair. His countenance was homely +in the extreme, and pitted by small-pox; but his gray eyes were keen +and farseeing, and though his expression was not exactly amiable, Enid +fancied she could detect a gleam of humour in his eyes, and indications +of the same in the lines about his mouth. He was explaining to Miss +Marian that he had not come to the house for the purpose of calling on +her, but to see a friend of his, an artist, who had a room below; being +there, however, he thought he might as well take a look at her studio. + +"It is very good of you—indeed, I feel highly honoured," said Maud +sweetly. + +Herr Schmitz frowned. Apparently he liked compliments as little as +Enid. He raised his "pince-nez" and began to look critically about the +room. + +"Too pretty, too pretty," he said, speaking in English, though with a +strong foreign accent. "A very charming 'salon,' but not a workshop. It +does not please me to see all this luxury in a studio." + +"Oh, don't call it luxury," said Maud, with an air of deprecation. +"Everything looks horridly new at present, I know, and so spick and +span; but the place will be littered enough when I begin to work." + +"You'd better lose no time in beginning," said the painter gruffly. +"Don't make a plaything of your studio that will beguile you from your +work. What have we here? A child holding an apple with an impossible +arm. My dear Miss Marian, don't attempt things of that kind till you +have learned to draw. Get plaster casts of arms and legs, or dummies +with moveable joints, and draw them in every possible position. You +should not think of painting till you have mastered form." + +Maud coloured, and looked intensely mortified; but her self-possession +did not desert her. + +"You are right—I need more practice," she said. "I knew there was +something wrong with that arm. Of course all my poor attempts must +appear very faulty in your eyes." + +"Nonsense! Any eyes that know what arms are would see that that is out +of drawing. And here we have a bit of the Tiber and St. Peter's in +the distance. Colour fair, but don't you see the shore-line could not +possibly have been so?" + +"Yes, yes, I see what you mean," said Maud hurriedly, feeling it +unendurable that the defects in her paintings should thus be exposed +to the company gathered to admire her studio. "But before you look at +anything more, you must have a cup of tea. Yes; indeed, my cousin will +be quite disappointed if you do not taste the tea she has made. We +English pride ourselves, you know, on being able to make good tea." + +"I never drink tea," said the painter brusquely; "but I shall be happy +to make your cousin's acquaintance." + +So Herr Schmitz was brought to where Enid sat, and introduced to her, +and almost immediately, to her horror, his eyes fell on her little +painting. + +"Ah, let me see!" he exclaimed, moving nearer to the easel. "This is +a new departure." He examined it critically for a few moments, and +then, aware perhaps that Miss Marian was hurt by his previous remarks, +he began to commend warmly the one thing he had found which he could +praise. + +"This is good," he said; "you have taken pains with this. There is +careful drawing here, and the colour is good. That shadow might be +deepened with advantage, and this leaf should be more transparent; +still, it is a distinct advance. I did not know that you went in for +this sort of thing." + +"Nor do I," said Maud coldly. "That is the work of my cousin." + +"Ah you paint too then," said Herr Schmitz, turning upon Enid a keen, +interested gaze. "You are very fond of painting—is it not so?" + +"Yes, indeed I like painting," replied Enid; "but I have had little +instruction." + +"No matter—you have talent; and if you work, work, work, you will +get on. You have an eye for form and an eye for colour—two excellent +gifts; but you must develop them. Practise drawing constantly; accustom +yourself to draw all kinds of forms—there is no other way to attain +freedom of hand." + +He went on to give Enid quite a lesson, to which she would have +listened with pleasure but for her consciousness of the mortification +Maud was enduring. Then, without noticing anything more of Maud's, or +giving her a word of encouragement, the great man took his departure. + +Miss Marian's friends rallied round her when he was gone. She must +not think anything of what Herr Schmitz had said, they assured her. +Everyone knew he was a perfect bear; for their part they believed he +was envious because her studio was so much better furnished than his +own. Julius Dakin told an absurd story to prove that Herr Schmitz +believed there was but one great modern painter, and that was himself. + +An Italian gentleman present—not an artist—foretold that Herr Schmitz +would learn one day that he was mistaken, for there was at least one +other artist in the world, the fair painter of the Studio Mariano. +This speech was received with applause, not because his prophecy was +believed, but because everyone was struck with the happy way in which +he had named the studio. It was a name which stuck to it. Henceforth +Miss Marian's place of work was constantly spoken of by her friends as +the Studio Mariano. Happily she never knew how often the mention of it +raised a laugh, since amongst the artists of her acquaintance who were +permitted to visit her there, the Studio Mariano came to be regarded as +an excellent joke. + +Maud did her best to hide her wounded feelings. She admitted that Herr +Schmitz was very hard to please, and that she was properly punished +for her presumption in inviting him to her poor studio. But though she +laughed and joked about it, Enid could see that she was sorely hurt, +and when her company had departed, she no longer attempted to hide that +she was so. + +"Horrid man!" she said, as she threw herself into an easy chair. "He +has put me out of heart with everything. Just as I was so pleased with +my studio too! I wish he had not come." + +Enid was silent. She was afraid of saying the wrong thing if she spoke, +and Maud was certainly not in the mood to be soothed by any words from +her cousin. As she glanced at the little painting which had received +such praise from the master, a feeling of envy and bitterness crept +into her heart. She nursed her sore feelings in silence for some time, +but when she next addressed her cousin, her voice expressed somewhat of +the bitterness she felt. + +"Why did you not tell me, Enid, that you met Julius Dakin at the +Colosseum?" + +"I meant to tell you," said Enid, "but when I got back to the house, +you were out, and when you returned it was almost dinner-time. There +was really no opportunity that evening." + +"There have been opportunities since," said Maud drily. + +"Of course," replied Enid. "I really hardly know myself how it is I +have not told you. You must remember I did not know when I met him that +he was a friend of yours." + +"You must have known on the following afternoon, when we saw him on the +Pincio." + +"Yes, I knew then," said Enid. + +"Please understand, Enid," said Maud, her voice quivering with passion, +"that you and I shall never get on together unless you are perfectly +straightforward with me. There is nothing I detest like underhand ways." + +"Maud!" exclaimed Enid. "What do you mean?" She was naturally +quick-tempered, and the insinuation conveyed by her cousin's words +excited her warm indignation. + +"Pray explain what you mean by 'underhand ways,'" she went on, as Maud +continued silent. "No one has ever accused me of such; what can you +have seen in my conduct that can give you any right to suspect me of +deceit?" + +"I have not accused you of anything," said Maud; "I have only warned +you." + +"Then you might wait till such a warning is necessary," said Enid. + +Maud made no reply, but rose and began to put on her hat and cloak. +Having uttered the last word, Enid had time to discover that she was +actually quarrelling with her cousin. She was dismayed at the thought. +They had barely been three weeks together, and they were disagreeing +already! Still, Enid could not feel that she alone was to blame. She +set to work to gather the cups and saucers together and put the room in +order with a sense of grievance on her mind. + +Suddenly she felt Maud's hand on her shoulder, and Maud's voice said, +"Forgive me, Enid; I should not have spoken to you so, but that horrid +Herr Schmitz has made me as savage as a bear." + +Enid accepted the apology, and kissed her cousin. Apparently all was +as before between them, but in truth, the incidents of the day had +effected a breach in their friendship, though as yet so slight as to be +almost imperceptible. + + + +CHAPTER V + +NEW FRIENDS + +"ENID," said her cousin one morning, as they were on their way to the +studio, "do you think of taking lessons in Italian whilst you are in +Rome?" + +"I should like to do so," said Enid; "it seems a pity not to acquire +the language whilst one is in the country." + +"It does, indeed," said Maud, who spoke Italian fluently, if not with +perfect accuracy. "Well, if you are disposed to learn, I have heard of +a teacher for you. Signora Campodonica was telling me yesterday of a +young lady, a friend of hers, who wishes to give lessons. She is well +educated—for an Italian girl—and speaks English; but she has never +taught before, so her terms will be low." + +"Which will suit me excellently well," said Enid. + +"Yes, I think she would do for you. All you want is to learn to speak. +Signora Campodonica speaks of Signorina Ravani as a charming girl. +She is of good family; but her mother is a widow in very straitened +circumstances. There is a son who is married and in a good position, +and it seems that he exercises rather tyrannical authority over his +mother and sister." + +So it was arranged that Enid should take lessons of Signorina Ravani. +As the house in which she lived was near the "pension" where Enid and +her cousin boarded, and it is not considered correct for Italian young +ladies to walk unprotected through the streets, Enid agreed to go there +to receive her lessons. + +At the hour fixed for her first lesson, Enid, after climbing several +flights of stone stairs—an inevitable preliminary to every visit one +pays in Rome—reached the small apartment occupied by Signora Ravani and +her daughter. The servant ushered her into a small ante-room, simply +but prettily furnished, with snowy curtains at the window, and flowers +tastefully disposed here and there. As the morning air was rather +sharp, the servant placed at her feet a "cassetta," as the Italians +call the perforated boxes filled with hot charcoal so much used in +Italy, and gave her a "scaldina," or earthenware vase filled with hot +ashes, at which to warm her fingers. A few moments later, Adela Ravani +entered the room. + +Enid had come prepared to be pleased with her teacher; but the beauty +of the young Italian girl fairly took her by surprise. Here was a face +and form such as books had described to her as belonging to Italy, but +which she had not before beheld. Adela's features were delicately cut +as a cameo, she had the pure olive complexion so peculiarly Italian, +and the most glorious eyes imaginable. Enid could hardly conceal the +admiration with which this girl's appearance inspired her. She fell +in love with her at once, and was ready, with all a young girl's +passionate enthusiasm for beauty in her own sex, to believe that she +saw before her one who was as good and noble as she was beautiful. + +Her young teacher appeared quite unconscious of the effect she +produced. There was not a trace of vanity in her demeanour. She seemed +anxious and even nervous about the lesson. She had never taught before, +she said, and she hoped Miss Mildmay would tell her if she did not +like her method. Enid happened to have a decided opinion of her own as +to the best mode of studying a language, so in the end she instructed +Signorina Ravani how to teach her. But the first lesson was a simple +enough affair, and Enid went away well pleased with it, and with her +teacher. + +"You must see her, Maud," she said to her cousin; "she is the loveliest +girl you ever saw in your life. You will want her for a model, I am +sure. She would be splendid for a picture." + +"A model! Enid, what are you saying? Fancy a Roman lady condescending +to sit as an artist's model!" + +"Well, all I meant was, that you should paint her portrait," said Enid. + +"But I am no portrait painter, alas!" said Maud. Her complacency had +recovered from the shock dealt to it by Herr Schmitz's criticism; but +she had not quite forgotten the lesson. + +"Did I tell you, Maud, that father and mother wished me to take some +lessons in painting whilst I am here?" + +"Yes, I think you said something about it. You will find no difficulty; +there are plenty of masters." + +"But I want a really good one," said Enid. "Of whom did you learn, +Maud?" + +"Oh, I used to go to Signor Campodonica's studio," said Maud; "but I +must warn you that his terms are very high." + +"Then that will not do for me," said Enid. "However, there is time to +consider the matter. I cannot settle to steady work till I have seen +more of Rome. I am going to the Capitol now, Maud." + +"Very well; go and enjoy yourself in your own way," said Maud. "Here is +my model, so I am bound to work hard for the next two hours." + +A round-faced, olive-skinned boy, with melancholy dark eyes, entered +the studio. He wore the picturesque costume of an Italian peasant, and +his face struck Enid as very familiar. In fact, she had already seen it +under various guises in the picture shops of Rome. + +Maud set to work, and Enid went on her way to the Capitol. As she ran +down the stairs, she met Miss Strutt toiling slowly up them. She looked +so pale and sad that Enid could not bear to pass her with a mere "Good +morning." So she plucked up courage to stop and say,— + +"Good morning, Miss Strutt. You know, perhaps, that my cousin and +I work in a studio upstairs. Since we are neighbours, I have been +wondering whether you would mind letting me see your paintings some +day, whenever it is convenient?" + +Miss Strutt looked surprised, but not displeased. "Certainly," she +said, and her voice had a pleasant sound; "I am always at home to show +people my pictures on Thursday afternoons." She looked observingly at +the young girl before her, then added, as if wishing to express more +cordiality, "But I shall be happy to show them to you at any time. +Perhaps you could look in this afternoon?" + +"Thank you; I shall be very pleased to do so," Enid said. + +Maud laughed at her cousin for being so eager to make the acquaintance +of an old maid, and declared that she would find her a bore; but +Enid's experience was quite otherwise. She had proposed her visit with +the hope of brightening somewhat a lonely, dreary life; and her kind +thought was richly rewarded. + +She was surprised that Maud should have spoken so slightingly of Miss +Strutt's work when she saw how very beautiful her water-colours were. +They were the work of one who had a passionate love of Nature, with +insight and skill to catch and reproduce the changeful beauty of her +moods. Here were lovely little bits of the Campagna crossed by the +broken arches of the old aqueduct; an avenue of trees, with their play +of light and shadow, framing a distant view of St. Peter's; fragments +of ruined temples, with a glowing sky for background, and many distant +country scenes, with which Enid was as yet unacquainted. It was a +delight to Enid to see such pictures as these. + +"You paint yourself," said Miss Strutt, reminded of this by the way in +which Enid was observing her paintings. + +"I try to," said Enid, half in despair; "but I shall never, never do +anything to be compared with these." + +"Yes, you will; and better things, I have no doubt, in time. Will you +bring some of your paintings to show me some day?" + +"If you would like to see them," said Enid; "but they are really not +worth showing." + +"Your modesty does you credit, my dear. I have little doubt your work +is better than you think. Anyhow, let me see it. I may be able to give +you a hint or two which may be useful." + +"Indeed I should be most grateful for them," said Enid eagerly. "I want +to take some lessons whilst I am in Rome. I suppose," she added, on a +sudden impulse, "you do not give lessons?" + +"I have never done so," said Miss Strutt. "I do not think I have +sufficient patience to teach; but I shall be very happy to give you any +help I can. I had myself a most excellent teacher." + +"Indeed!" said Enid, interested. + +"Yes, Herr Schmitz was my teacher." + +"Ah, you do not mean it!" cried Enid. "Was he not dreadfully hard to +please?" + +"He certainly was. You see, he has a very high standard, and nothing +short of the best will satisfy him. It was just that which made him so +good a teacher." + +"His own paintings, I suppose, are very fine?" said Enid. + +"They are, indeed. He is a genius. I owe much to him, for he has been a +true friend to me. He is kind at heart, although he has such a way of +riding rough-shod over people's feelings. I could take you to see his +pictures some day, if you would like." + +"I should like it immensely," said Enid. + +She felt strongly drawn to Miss Strutt, in spite of her peculiarities +of manner and odd dress. Her face, if melancholy, had a kind, +sympathetic expression as she talked, and Enid liked the sound of the +strong Scotch accent which years of residence abroad had not impaired. + +Miss Strutt's studio presented a marked contrast to the Studio Mariano. +The furniture was of the homeliest kind. There was nothing decorative +save some fine palms and ferns, carefully tended by their owner, a few +plaster casts, and Miss Strutt's own sketches, with which the walls +were covered. These last would have sufficed to beautify any room. The +arrangements for Miss Strutt's personal comfort were of the simplest +nature. It touched Enid to see the tiny caldron of hot water on the +stove, and the little earthenware teapot and solitary cup and saucer on +the table. + +"I could not bear to live all alone like this," she thought. + +Presently Miss Strutt produced another cup from the cupboard, and +invited her visitor to take some tea with her. Enid did not refuse. +The tea was excellent. In spite of the homeliness of her surroundings, +Enid was inclined to doubt whether Miss Strutt was so poor as Maud had +represented her to be. Such pictures as hers were hardly likely to lack +purchasers, especially as she could boast the friendship and approval +of Herr Schmitz. As they took their tea, the two talked more freely. + +"You have lived many years in Rome, I suppose?" said Enid. + +"Fifteen years," was the reply. + +"How long!" said Enid. "But you have been home—to Scotland, I +mean—during that time?" + +"Only once, and that is eleven years ago." + +"Indeed! Then Rome has really become your home. You do not long to +return to Scotland?" + +"No," said Miss Strutt, in rather a sad voice; "I shall never go back +to Edinburgh again; I have no friends in Scotland now." + +"But you do not stay in Rome all the year?" + +"No; as a rule I go to Montepulciano, or some country place where I +can work out of doors for the summer. But I have passed more than one +summer in Rome." + +"And you are not lonely?" said Enid, suddenly asking the question she +had resolved not to ask. + +"Not now. I have my work and I have Nature. Ah! You young things cannot +understand how some of us older ones, whose lives lack so much that +seems to you desirable, learn to love Nature; how she reveals herself +to us, takes us to her bosom, unfolds to us her secrets; how her voice +becomes to us the very voice of God, soothing, guiding, teaching. The +weeks which I spend amongst the mountains are the happiest seasons of +my life. But if I talk in this way you will think me sentimental." + +"No, I shall not," said Enid. "Indeed, I understand you better than +that. I too love Nature." + +"I know you do; but—" Miss Strutt paused, and looked observantly with a +gentle, kindly air at the bright young face before her ere she went on. +"But you will never come so near to Nature as I have, because your life +will be quite different from mine. I can venture to prophesy that. You +are not made for a solitary life." + +"I have had no experience of solitude as yet," said Enid smiling. "I +certainly cannot imagine myself liking it." + +"You belong to a large family?" + +"There are seven of us," said Enid; "father and mother and seven +children, of whom five—is it not dreadful?—are girls." + +"I see nothing dreadful in it," said Miss Strutt. "I think you are very +happy." + +She asked a few questions about Enid's brothers and sisters, and Enid, +only too happy to talk of it, was soon giving her a full account of her +home life. The time passed so pleasantly thus that she was surprised to +hear the bell of a neighbouring convent begin to ring, which told that +it was nearly five o'clock. + +"I must go now," she said, rising; "Maud will wonder what has become of +me." + +"Will you come again?" asked Miss Strutt. "Believe me, although I have +grown used to solitude, a visit now and then from you will make a very +agreeable break in its monotony." + +"Thank you; I shall be very pleased to come," said Enid. + +"And bring some of your paintings to show me when you come again. Will +you?" + +Enid promised that she would do so. + +As she emerged from the narrow passage which led to Miss Strutt's +studio, she met Julius Dakin descending the stairs. + +"And where do you spring from, Miss Mildmay?" he asked, when they had +shaken hands. + +"I have been in Miss Strutt's studio," said Enid. "Do you know Miss +Strutt?" + +"Only by sight," he said, a mischievous look in his dark eyes;—"only by +sight; but it is a great thing to know Miss Strutt by sight." + +"Now, I am not going to let you laugh at Miss Strutt," said Enid. "I +like her very much, and she paints beautifully. You would not laugh at +her paintings if you saw them." + +"No, should I not? One often sees paintings that are very amusing, +especially when they are not meant to be comical. But tell me about +Miss Strutt's paintings!" And he leaned against the banisters, +evidently in no hurry to move on. + +"She paints in water-colours; but I cannot describe her work. I wish +you would go and see her pictures some day." + +"Then I will, certainly. On what day does she receive?" + +"On Thursday afternoon." + +"Perhaps she would think it strange of me to appear without an +introduction." said Dakin insinuatingly. "I wish you would be so kind +as to accompany me some afternoon, Miss Mildmay, and introduce me to +Miss Strutt?" + +"Oh, certainly," said Enid carelessly; "Maud is coming down with me +some afternoon to see Miss Strutt's pictures, and there is no reason +why you should not join us if you would like to." + +[Illustration] + +This was not exactly what Julius Dakin desired; but it was impossible +to object to the arrangement. + +"Thank you; I should be most happy to do so," he said. "I will call for +you on Thursday afternoon, with your kind permission. I have just seen +Miss Marian; she has been working very hard to-day." + +"Yes," said Enid, prepared to move on; but he made another effort to +detain her. + +"You are much interested in this Miss Strutt?" + +"I like her, and I feel sorry for her," said Enid simply. "She seems +to lead a very lonely life, and she works very hard. I wonder if her +pictures sell well. She has a good many to show." + +"Would you like me to buy one of her pictures?" asked Julius quickly. + +"I like you!" said Enid surprised. "That is entirely your own affair, +Mr. Dakin." + +"Yes, of course; I mean—I should have said—would you advise me to buy +one?" + +"Oh, I could not advise you, Mr. Dakin. I think the pictures good, but +I am no judge. My advice would be worth nothing." + +"You are mistaken; it is worth a good deal to me." + +"Now you are flattering me, Mr. Dakin, and I will wish you good-day," +said Enid, retreating up the staircase. + +"Indeed, that is not flattery," he protested. "I am keeping strictly to +our compact. Do you not remember that we agreed to say to each other +exactly what we mean on every occasion?" + +"I do not think I made any promise," said Enid laughing; "and I +certainly did not agree to advise you with regard to buying pictures. +Good-bye!" And she ran up the stairs. + +Entering the studio, she found Maud engaged in arranging in vases a +profusion of exquisite flowers. + +"I met Mr. Dakin on the stairs," Enid began breathlessly. She was +determined there should be no concealment on this occasion. + +"Yes, he has been here," said Maud. "Just look, Enid, what lovely +flowers he has brought me! He stayed here talking for some time. He +thinks I have made a good study of my model." + +Enid silently turned to look at her cousin's drawing. + +"It was good of him to bring me these flowers," said Maud, evidently +delighted with the gift; "such lots of heliotrope! He knows how I love +heliotrope." + +In truth, Julius Dakin had intended to present the flowers to both the +young ladies. They were no more for Maud than for Enid, but finding the +former alone, it had been difficult to explain this, and he had had to +endure the vexation of seeing Maud accept the flowers as a token of +devotion to herself. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +ENID'S MASTER + +JULIUS DAKIN did not fail to appear at the Studio Mariano on the +following Thursday. In the company of the two girls, he paid his visit +to Miss Strutt, and Enid was pleased to find how highly he appreciated +that lady's work. Maud too admired it warmly, though it seemed to Enid +that she was rather disposed to patronise the "little old maid," as she +always called Miss Strutt. She invited Miss Strutt to take tea at her +studio, and the invitation was accepted, though Miss Strutt stipulated +that she might come when Miss Marian and her cousin were alone, as she +shrank from meeting many people. + +"The life I lead does not fit me for society," she said. "Your friends +would find me odd and queer. Oh yes, they would, my dear; don't attempt +to deny it." She checked Maud, who was about to interpose a kind word. +"My ways are odd. I must confess I do not understand the modern ideas; +I cannot talk slang of any kind—fashionable, artistic, or what you +will. I should be quite out of place in the midst of such persons as +you draw about you." + +"I think you are mistaken," said Maud, kindly; "but it shall be as you +like. Enid and I shall only be too glad to have you to ourselves. I +will show you all my things, and you shall give me the benefit of your +candid criticism." + +For Maud still cherished the delusion that she desired candid criticism. + +"You might invite me," suggested Dakin, playfully; "I should like to +make one of the party. You would not object to meeting me, would you, +Miss Strutt? I am perfectly harmless." + +"I don't know about that," said Miss Strutt, shaking her head. "No, +indeed, you must not be admitted. A gentleman is always such a +distraction. We should have no quiet chat if you were there." + +"What an insinuation!" exclaimed Julius, in an injured tone. "One would +think I were given to monopolising the conversation." + +When they had quitted Miss Strutt's studio, Julius returned with the +girls to their own, and diverted himself there for some little time. + +"By the way," he said, as he was about to take his leave, "my mother +may be expected to reach home by the end of the week. The steamer is +due at Genoa to-morrow." + +"Oh, I am glad to hear that," said Maud, eagerly. "I have missed Mrs. +Dakin so much." + +"My father and I have been very dull without her," said Julius. +"One cannot entertain when the lady of the house is absent; but now +I suppose my mother will receive her friends as usual on Wednesday +evenings; and I shall hope to have the pleasure of seeing you, Miss +Marian, on those occasions, and you, Miss Mildmay." + +"We shall be delighted to come," said Maud. "Mrs. Dakin's receptions +are always most enjoyable." + +"My mother is bringing a young American beauty, Miss Blanche Amory, +back with her," observed Julius, tranquilly. "She has been fascinating +the fashionable world of New York, and is now coming to exercise her +spells in this European city. You will be charmed with her, Miss +Marian." + +"Shall I?" said Maud, a little dubiously. "Is she so very beautiful?" + +"Well, that is a matter of taste. 'Beauty,' you know, 'is in the eye of +the beholder.' I have seen women whom I admire far more than I do Miss +Amory; but still there are artists who rave about her." + +"How very dreadful for their friends!" said Enid. + +Julius laughed. + +"You are satirical, Miss Mildmay," he said. "You have a quiet way +of letting us know that you find the conversation of us lesser +mortals sadly frivolous. But what have you been doing in the way of +sight-seeing since I last saw you? Are you still fascinated with the +ruins of Rome?" + +"More than ever, I think," said Enid; "only I wish I understood them +better. If I had known in advance that I should spend this winter in +Rome, I could have read up for it. One feels one's ignorance dreadfully +here." + +Julius thought of a young lady from England, whom he had one day in +the previous spring conducted through the sculpture galleries of the +Capitol, and who, when he told her they were in the hall of the Dying +Gladiator, had said, with an assumption of interest,— + +"Oh, so this is the hall in which the Gladiator died." + +Enid had been so far from betraying ignorance to him that he had +actually wondered to find her so thoroughly acquainted with the history +of Rome. But it must be owned that Julius Dakin had not been fortunate +in his acquaintance with young ladies. + +"If you are disposed for hard reading," he observed, "my father has +several standard works on ancient Rome in his library, and I am sure he +would be most happy to lend them to you—or to Miss Marian," he added, +mischievously. + +"Please don't include me," cried Maud. "I would not read such books to +save my life. I don't pretend to any knowledge of or any interest in +the old kings and emperors, only I feel grateful to them for having +left us such picturesque ruins." + +"That is frank, at any rate," said Julius, laughing. Then he shook +hands with the girls and took his departure. + + +Miss Strutt paid her promised visit to Miss Marian's studio. She raised +herself in that young lady's estimation by the taste and discrimination +she displayed in her admiration of her pretty things. She praised too +as much of Miss Marian's work as she honestly could praise; and if she +thought more highly of the little paintings Enid showed her, she was +careful to conceal her opinion of their merits. Although she lived such +a solitary life, and never went into society, Miss Strutt had a shrewd +knowledge of human nature, and keen insight into character. She saw +that it would be an unfortunate thing for Enid if the jealousy from +which such vanity as Maud Marian's is seldom free, were to be excited +by the perception that her cousin's work was more highly appreciated +than her own. + +Miss Strutt was glad, therefore, when she presented herself at the +Studio Mariano a few days later, to find Enid alone. She had begged to +be excused from accompanying her cousin, who had gone to a friend's "At +home," and was working away very happily alone. + +"Are you very busy?" asked Miss Strutt. "I came to ask if you would +come down to my studio for a little while." + +"With pleasure," said Enid, beginning to unbutton her apron. "I cannot +do much more till this wash has dried." + +"Please bring those studies with you that you were showing me the other +day," said Miss Strutt—"the daffodils and the group of apples, and +anything else that you have which is good." + +Enid could not imagine why Miss Strutt should wish to see these things +again; but she willingly did as she was asked. + +Entering Miss Strutt's studio, she was surprised to find Herr Schmitz +there. He greeted her very kindly; but Enid was overwhelmed with dismay +when she discovered that it was for his benefit that she had been asked +to bring her paintings. + +Without heeding her protestations, Miss Strutt took them from her, and +placed them one after another upon an easel before the master's eyes. +Enid stood by, feeling ready to sink through the floor, and scarce +daring to lift her eyes to his face. Never had she been more painfully +aware of the defects in her work. + +But she need not have been so much afraid. The dreadful pause, during +which the master looked at each study without uttering a word, was over +at last, and Enid's suspense was relieved by the emphatic "Good," which +Herr Schmitz uttered. + +"Good," he said again. "As I told you before, you have eyes, you see +form, you see colour. You will do, if you work. But you must really +work; you must not play with Art. Are you afraid of work?" + +"I think not," said Enid; "if it were worth while for me to work very +hard I would do so." + +"It is always worth while to work one's best at whatever one attempts. +There is no road to success save the painful, uphill one of hard work. +You have a good chance if you try your best. I will tell you what you +should do." + +Enid listened earnestly to the instructions he proceeded to give her; +but what was her astonishment when she found him offering to give her +two or three lessons himself. + +"Simply as a friend," he said, for he no longer gave lessons save under +very exceptional circumstances. + +Enid knew not how to express her gratitude for his kindness. Awe, +indeed, mingled with her pleasure in accepting it, for there was +something rather appalling in the idea of learning of Herr Schmitz. But +he was thoroughly in earnest about it, and insisted on her fixing a day +for her first visit to his studio. Then bidding her and Miss Strutt a +friendly good-day, he departed. + +"I congratulate you," said Miss Strutt to Enid; "there are few young +aspirants who win such approval from Herr Schmitz." + +"It almost frightens me," said Enid. "I fear he thinks too highly of +my work, and I shall disappoint him in the end. But he is really very +kind." + +"He is, indeed," said Miss Strutt, "though his extreme irritability +often leads people to suppose the opposite. You must not mind if he +gets cross sometimes, and says rude things to you." + +"That will be rather hard," said Enid; "but if he begins to call me +names some day, I'll try to remember what you say, and keep my temper." + +She went away in high glee, eager to tell her cousin the wonderful +thing that had happened. In spite of Herr Schmitz's admonitions with +respect to work, she could accomplish little more that afternoon. She +was far too excited; and feeling at last that she would only spoil her +painting if she worked longer upon it in her present mood, she washed +her brushes, set the studio in order, locked the door, and went home to +the "pension." + +Maud came in a little later, and found Enid awaiting her in her room. + +Maud was tired, and rather out of humour; but Enid, in her eagerness +to tell her news, did not perceive this. She began upon it the moment +her cousin entered. Maud heard her through without saying a word; but +Enid wondered to see how the colour mounted in her cousin's face as +she listened. Ere she had done, Maud had turned her back upon her, and +was standing apparently absorbed in studying her own reflection in +the mirror. In truth, Maud was experiencing a bitter moment. It was +impossible for Enid to know the anger and envy the communication she +had so innocently made had roused in her cousin's breast. She could +not know that Maud, on her first coming to Rome, had been ambitious of +securing lessons from Herr Schmitz, and had sought an introduction to +him with that view; but the master, as soon as he saw some of her work, +had brusquely declined to receive her as a pupil. But as Maud continued +silent, Enid knew instinctively that her cousin was annoyed. + +"Why do you not speak, Maud?" she asked presently. "Are you not pleased +that I should have lessons of Herr Schmitz?" + +"What would you have me say, Enid?" demanded Maud in a cold, hard tone. +"How can it make the least difference to me of whom you take lessons?" + +"But it is so kind of Herr Schmitz. I thought you would be glad. Miss +Strutt says he hardly ever gives lessons now, and he has always been +very particular what pupils he took." + +"Miss Strutt is an old simpleton. She must know that it is only a whim +of Herr Schmitz. He is the most whimsical man in the world. I wish you +joy of your lessons, Enid." + +"I expect to enjoy them very much," said Enid, feeling nettled. "It +will be a great advantage to learn of such a master." + +"Of course you think you are on the way to becoming famous now," said +Maud, scornfully; "but it takes more than a few lessons from Herr +Schmitz, however he may flatter you, to make a great painter, let me +tell you, Enid." + +"Thank you; I was aware of that before," said Enid, coolly; "but I +thought you had had sufficient experience of Herr Schmitz to know that +he is not given to flattery." + +Her words carried a sting which Enid did not intend to convey. She had +forgotten how bluntly Herr Schmitz had criticised her cousin's drawings +when he made his call at her studio; but Maud, in whose mind the memory +of his words still rankled, believed that Enid deliberately reminded +her of them. + +Enid was sorely hurt by the way in which her news had been received. +She had come, glad and eager, to share her happiness with her cousin, +and had met with a sharp rebuff. But she would not show how much she +felt it. She was a proud little person in her way, and she quitted +her cousin's presence with an air of quiet dignity, of which Maud was +conscious in the midst of her annoyance. + +Alone in her own room, however, Enid could no longer keep back her +tears. + +"I cannot understand it," she said to herself; "why should Maud be +annoyed at the thought of my taking lessons of Herr Schmitz? Sometimes +I fear she is beginning to dislike me. Whatever shall I do if she does? +It will be dreadful being always together if we cannot be friends. And +I thought everything was going to be so delightful!" + +Then she remembered that her mother had warned her that she must not +expect to have gold without alloy. How true the words were proving! But +the thought of her mother brought comfort. There could be no doubt that +she would be pleased to hear of the kind encouragement Herr Schmitz had +given her daughter, and his proposal to give her lessons in painting. +So Enid took her desk, and sat down to relieve her wounded feelings by +writing a long letter to the mother of whose loving sympathy she felt +so sure. + +And Maud sat alone, nursing the bitter, wrathful feelings that resulted +from mortified vanity. She, poor girl, had no mother to whom she could +unburden her heart, and she had never been wont to confide in her +father. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MRS. DAKIN'S RECEPTION + +MRS. DAKIN was a tall, graceful woman, young-looking for her +five-and-forty years, with sparkling dark eyes and a vivacious manner. +On the day of her reception, she had a warm welcome for Maud, who, +in the pretty gown she had worn at her aunt's wedding, was certainly +looking her best. + +Mrs. Dakin quickly contrived to say in her ear,—"You look charming +to-night, my dear. There is no fear of my New York beauty eclipsing +you—" A speech which delighted Maud, and enabled her to meet the young +lady with equanimity. + +Yet in truth, Miss Blanche Amory was a very fascinating young person. +Her beauty was of a purely Grecian type. Her small shapely head, the +broad, low brow over which the light brown hair fell in such bewitching +little curls, the straight, delicate nose, the small curved mouth, and +the lovely violet eyes, were already inspiring every artist present +with an eager desire to paint her portrait. Her bearing was marked by a +piquant audacity of speech and action which the English ladies present +decided to be "thoroughly American," whilst her dress had the quality +which Europeans distinguish by the significant word "chic." + +"Is this your first visit to Rome?" enquired Maud, by way of opening +the conversation. + +"No; I was here with my parents five years ago," replied the beauty, +with the high nasal intonation peculiar to her nation. + +"Then you have seen most of the sights?" + +"Yes; I guess I did enough sight-seeing when I was over before. I don't +mean to go round with my guidebook any more. If there's anything new to +be seen, I'd like to see it—that's all." + +"I dare say we can accommodate you," said Julius Dakin, who stood +at her elbow. "It will be a refreshing change. Most of our visitors +can interest themselves only in the old things of Rome, and despise +everything belonging to the present century." + +"Ah, I guess—musty old churches, underground tombs, and impossible +relics. But that's not my taste. I like to keep above ground whilst I +can; and I don't know that I should be any the better for seeing the +chains of St. Peter or the head of St. Paul. I went into the burial +vaults of the Cappuccini and had a look at the old skeleton monks when +I was last in Rome, and it made me feel sort of queer-like." + +"It is not an agreeable sight, certainly," said Maud, with a little +shudder. "But there are many beautiful things to be seen in Rome, and +the country round is most interesting. I suppose you explored it when +you were here before." + +"You may be sure we did. My father is not one to do things by halves, +and I am his own child in that. Before we came to Italy, we were in +Greece, and we went all through the mountains on horseback. We roughed +it then, I can tell you. Often I was in the saddle for twelve hours +at a time; and such riding as it was!—no roads. We just had to make +tracks across country, fording streams and leaping gullies. It was hard +work—but how I did enjoy it!" + +"You are such an experienced traveller, Miss Amory, that you make me +feel quite small," observed Julius Dakin. "I have had no adventures +that can compare with yours." + +"Well, I guess I've travelled all round Europe, anyway," replied the +fair American; "but I have not done India yet. I must have a try at +that some day." + +Not Julius Dakin alone was feeling small. Maud Marian was made aware +that she was but an ordinary mortal after all. She could boast no such +achievements as the young American continued to describe, and her +knowledge of the world she lived in now presented itself to her as +pitifully limited. + +Enid meanwhile was listening with quiet amusement to all that passed. +Maud presently disengaged herself from the group about Miss Amory, and +began to move through the rooms, meeting at every few steps with some +acquaintance. Enid, who found herself alone amidst strangers, had a +momentary sense of dreariness. She glanced round the room, and her eyes +at length fell on Julius Dakin, who was making his way to her. + +"Found at last!" he said, as he came up. "I was wondering where you had +hidden yourself. Will you allow me to take you to the library? There is +something there I should like to show you." + +Enid consented willingly. + +In the library they found Mr. Dakin with one or two visitors. Enid +began to examine the books, and was delighted when the old gentleman +gave her permission to borrow any she liked, and pointed out those that +would be of most interest to her in her study of Roman antiquities. +Talking to him, she forgot that she had been brought to the library for +a special purpose; but Julius waited patiently till her attention was +disengaged. + +"Now, Miss Mildmay," he said at last, "I will show you something that I +think you will be pleased to see." + +He led her into a small ante-room and raised the lamp he carried, +so that its light fell upon a picture hanging on the wall. It was a +painting of the Campagna with the ruin of an old tomb, and some grand +stone pines standing up against the blue sky. It was already familiar +to Enid, and a favourite with her. She had thought it one of the best +of Miss Strutt's paintings. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed involuntarily, in her surprise. "You have bought +that of Miss Strutt! How good of you!" + +"Not at all," he replied, with a look of pleasure. "It was my father +who bought it, and he was only too glad to secure such a charming +little picture." + +"But you took him to see Miss Strutt's pictures?" + +"Why, yes, I was guilty of that, certainly; but you would not have had +me keep to myself my knowledge of the good things that were to be seen +there?" + +This was unanswerable. Enid was perhaps foolishly delighted that +the purchase had been made, and she could not rid her mind of the +impression that her influence had played a considerable part in the +matter. She believed that Julius had wished to give her pleasure. And +yet how little ground there was for such a fancy! + +If Julius Dakin had been actuated by any such motive, he was rewarded +as he watched Enid's undisguised pleasure. They lingered awhile in +the ante-room, talking and looking at the pictures. When at last they +returned to the drawing-room, they had been absent more than half an +hour, but to Enid it had seemed but a few minutes. + +Maud Marian was seated near the door by which Enid and Julius entered. +Enid moved towards her cousin, intending to tell her of the purchase +Mr. Dakin had made; but ere she could reach her side, Maud rose, said +a few words to the gentleman with whom she was talking, and passed +rapidly to the other side of the room. + +Enid was astonished. She felt sure Maud had seen her come in, and +wondered that she should turn from her in that way. Had she unwittingly +offended her cousin again? Maud had recovered from her annoyance on +learning that Herr Schmitz had proposed to give lessons to her cousin. +The breach between them was to all appearance mended, but Enid was +no longer at her ease with her cousin. She was subject to fear lest +her words or actions should be misunderstood, and give offence. As +she lanced at Maud now across the crowded room, she could see that +something had occurred to disturb her cousin's equanimity, though Maud +was making an effort to hide the fact that she was not enjoying herself. + +Julius placed Enid under his mother's care, and then strolled off to +where the American beauty was still surrounded by a little court of +admirers. Enid wondered if the general attention bestowed upon this +young lady were a source of mortification to Maud. But now Mrs. Dakin +introduced her to two young English girls, who were very pleased to +meet with a girl-compatriot. The three chatted together in lively +fashion for some time, till the mother of the girls came to take them +away. The room was already thinning. The departure of the girls, and +of one or two others who moved away at the same time, made a stillness +about Enid, in which the words of two ladies of mature age, who were +seated on a settee behind her, fell distinctly on her ears. + +"Now I wonder if Mrs. Dakin means her son to marry that American +beauty," said one. + +"No doubt she would like him to wed one of her countrywomen," replied +the other; "and the girl is an heiress, I believe." + +"As for that, he might afford to marry for love, I should think," +returned the first speaker. "It is all very well for his mother to +choose for him, but he may be of another mind. Last winter everyone +said he would marry Miss Marian." + +"Well, he has not paid her much attention to-night, for I have been +watching him," remarked the other. "There was another girl he seemed +very friendly with." + +"Well, really! If you are going to take note of every girl Julius Dakin +regards with friendliness, you will have enough to do. He knows how to +make himself agreeable to ladies if ever a young man did. He has just +that way, don't you know, that makes every girl he talks with suppose +that he admires her." + +Enid heard no more. She rose and moved away with burning cheeks. She +was greatly disturbed by the idle words she had overheard. She resented +them for her cousin's sake; but not for that alone. Her own self-esteem +was wounded, and she even felt irritated with Julius Dakin. + +"I suppose he thinks I admire him," she thought with disdain; "but I +do not. He is handsome, of course; but as I have often told Alice, I +dislike handsome men." + +Julius Dakin was unfortunate that evening, for Maud also was feeling +annoyed with him, though from a different reason. Miss Guy, who was +staying at the same pension, seeing Miss Marian not far from her, +presumed to approach that young lady, and, undeterred by her repellent +manner, began to talk to her. It was no liking for Maud which drew her +to her side. Miss Guy was not so obtuse as to be unaware that Miss +Marian desired to avoid her. She resented warmly the hauteur with which +that young lady invariably treated her when they met at table, and it +was with a malicious desire to wound her that she now addressed her. It +is marvellous how keen such persons are to discern the vulnerable point +at which a dart may be aimed. + +"Your cousin and Mr. Dakin seem to find the library very attractive, do +they not?" she observed, with apparent carelessness. + +Maud surveyed her for a moment with haughty astonishment ere she said— + +"Excuse me. I do not understand to what you refer." She had missed +Julius from the room, but was not aware that he had quitted it in +Enid's company. + +"Mr. Dakin took your cousin away to show her something in the library. +I am quite curious to know what it is that has detained them there for +half an hour." + +Maud changed colour for an instant, but her self-control did not fail +her. + +"If you ask Mr. Dakin when he returns, I have no doubt he will be +pleased to satisfy your curiosity," she said, in a tone of cold +indifference. + +"I am afraid I should not get much for my pains," laughed Miss Guy. +"When a young gentleman is smitten with a girl, anything will serve as +an excuse for taking her aside. It is easy to see that Mr. Julius Dakin +takes a warm interest in your cousin; and no wonder! For she is really +a nice, compact little person." + +Maud rose from her seat, white with anger. "Excuse me, Miss Guy," she +said, with icy composure; "I must ask you to reserve your remarks upon +my cousin for some other listener." + +And she swept away, leaving Miss Guy to experience a sense of +discomfiture. But that frame of mind was so foreign to her nature that +it could not last long. Her self-complacency quickly revived, and she +said to herself, with an agreeable sense of her own cleverness— + +"After all, I hit the mark! She would not have been so angry if she had +not cared for him." + +Maud moved towards the door through which she supposed Enid and Dakin +would return from the library. She seated herself in a position to +observe their entrance. In truth, it was not many minutes ere they +appeared, but the time seemed long to Maud as she watched with jealous +eyes, and her anger increased with every minute that passed. When they +came in, her indignation had reached such a heat that, fearful of +betraying too openly her annoyance, she made a hasty movement to avoid +speaking to her cousin. + +Her feelings did not soften as the evening wore on; but she got them +under control. Annoyed as she felt with Julius Dakin, she was far +more angry with Enid, though what she had to resent in Enid's conduct +it would be hard to say. But she meant to show no annoyance; she was +anxious to maintain her usual demeanour towards them both. So she +smiled and spoke brightly as she bade Julius Dakin good-night. + +It was Enid whose manner towards him was cold. Maud noticed its +constraint, and was puzzled, till it occurred to her that Enid was +perhaps seeking to deceive her. + +"She does not look deceitful," she thought; "but I have read that there +are persons with an open, frank air, who yet have a perfect talent for +dissimulation." + +As soon as she was in the carriage, Maud gave way to ill-temper. + +"It has been a most stupid evening," she said. "If Mrs. Dakin's +receptions are all to be like that, I shall not trouble to attend many +of them. The fuss made over that Miss Amory was sickening. And after +all, she is no great beauty." + +"She is very pretty," said Enid, decidedly. + +"Not more so than plenty of other girls; and her Yankee accent is +terrible." + +Enid made no reply, and for some minutes they rolled along in silence. + +At last, Enid roused herself and said, "Mr. Dakin has bought one of +Miss Strutt's pictures, Maud. Mr. Julius took me into the library to +see it." + +For a few moments Maud did not respond. Then she said with a strange +bitterness in her tones, "He might have spent his money better; but I +suppose he bought it out of charity, to help the poor old thing." + +"Indeed, I think he had his money's worth," said Enid, with warmth. "It +is a lovely little picture." + +"Of course you are a judge," said Maud, with quiet sarcasm. "When +you have lived a little longer in Rome, you will perhaps see things +differently." + +Enid felt that she was being made to see things differently now. +Certain delusions were vanishing, and leaving in their stead a blank +sense of pain. She felt weary and home-sick to-night. + + +The next morning, as they went to their studio, Enid looked in +upon Miss Strutt. The little woman's face wore an unusually serene +expression, and she greeted Enid with a bright smile. + +"I wanted to see you," she said; "I have to thank you—it was all your +doing, I know." + +"What was my doing?" + +"That Mr. Dakin bought my little painting." + +"I had nothing to do with that," said Enid. + +"Yes, you had," said Miss Strutt, sagely shaking her head. "I know +better; you had everything to do with it." + +"Indeed you are mistaken," said Enid. "I am very glad that Mr. Dakin +bought it. I saw it last night in his library, and it looks so well +where it is hung." + +"I am really very grateful to you," said Miss Strutt, who was not to be +persuaded that she owed Enid no debt of gratitude. "It is a great help +to me. Some day, perhaps, I may tell you why I have to work so hard, +but not now. You are impatient to get to your work; but do not work too +hard, my child. You do not look so bright as usual this morning. Is it +work, or dissipation, that has fatigued you?" + +"Dissipation, I fear," said Enid laughing. + +Already the heaviness of her mood was gone. She could not help sharing +Miss Strutt's pleasure over the purchase of her picture. And as she +ascended to the Studio Mariano, she thought more kindly of Julius Dakin. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +COMPLICATIONS + +ENID continued to enjoy her lessons with Adela Ravani. The pleasing +impression made on her when first she saw her young teacher did not +wear off. She was charmed with the girl's beauty and grace, and the +almost childish confidence and simplicity she displayed in their talks +together. + +Enid was quick at languages, and she soon began to understand what was +said to her in Italian. The lesson usually ended with a confidential +talk between the girls. Adela would confide to Enid some of the +troubles of her life. She often spoke of the brother, many years older +than herself, whom she seemed to regard with fear rather than love. +This brother and his wife shared the home with Adela and her mother, +and it was clear to Enid, from what the girl said, that he was the head +of the house, and everyone else had to bend to his will. Adela appeared +to have no affection for her sister-in-law, whom she described as full +of deceit, and capable of the most spiteful actions. + +"She is a spy," she said once; "she is always watching me; and she +tells Francesco all she sees. I have the greatest difficulty in hiding +things from her." + +Enid was startled by the light thus thrown on Adela's life. + +"But what can you have to conceal?" she asked. "Why should you mind +your sister-in-law knowing all you do?" + +"Oh, you do not understand," said Adela. "I should never be able to do +anything if I let them know about it. Francesco would have me live the +life of a nun. You cannot think how angry he was when he found out that +I was giving lessons, for mamma and I kept it from him as long as we +could." + +"But why should he be angry?" asked Enid in surprise. + +"He thought it beneath the dignity of our family. The Ravanis are one +of the oldest families in Rome, and the daughters of such houses do +not earn money," said Adela, with considerable dignity. "But we are so +poor, mamma and I, and Francesco is not generous. Look at my slipper, +signorina—do you see how I have had to mend it? That will show you I +have not much money to spend on my attire." + +Enid glanced down at the dainty velvet slipper, and admired not only +the skill with which it was mended, but the beauty of the perfect +little foot it adorned. + +"I wish I could sew like that," she said; "but I think your brother is +mistaken in deeming it beneath anyone's dignity to teach. In England, +women are proud of being able to support themselves, and teachers are +held in honour. At least they are by all but vulgar-minded people," she +added. + +"Are they?" said Adela. "I like teaching—or should if all my pupils +were like you. But Francesco will not be happy till he puts an end to +it. He is looking out for a husband for me; but it is not so easy to +find one, you see, because I have no dowry." + +"Looking out for a husband for you!" exclaimed Enid, startled, as well +she might be, for the idea is shocking to English notions. + +"Yes; it is his duty, you know," said Adela calmly; but Enid saw that a +cloud had fallen on her face. + +"But surely not without respect to your wishes in the matter!" +protested Enid. "You would not take a husband of his choosing merely." + +"It is our custom," said Adela. "Of course," she added, with a quick +blush, "I have read in books that people sometimes marry for love, and +I should think myself that that was the happier way. But my mother says +one should not think of love till one is married." + +"And my mother would say it was very wrong of any woman to marry a man +whom she did not truly love and reverence," said Enid, with some warmth. + +"Would she?" said Adela, with sudden interest. "I wish my mother +thought so. And oh, I do hope, it will be long, long ere my brother +finds me a husband!" + +Enid did not wonder that she spoke with such energy and in so troubled +a tone. + + +"Well," said Enid later, as she repeated to her cousin what had passed, +"I never felt more inclined to— + + "Thank the goodness and the grace + That on my birth has smiled." + +"I would not be an Italian girl for the world. How dreadful for Adela +to feel that her brother can hand her over, to any man who is willing +to take her without a dowry!" + +Maud shrugged her shoulders. "It is the way here," she said. "A +well-born Roman girl never dreams choosing a husband for herself. She +has no voice in the matter; it is her duty to obey the will of her +parents." + +"But if she should love someone else?" said Enid. + +"Then she would commit a grave indiscretion. My dear Enid, a well-bred +girl would never allow herself to fall in love." + +"Perhaps not; but suppose she found it impossible to love the gentleman +her father had chosen for her?" + +Maud shrugged her shoulders again. "She would have to make the best +of it, I am afraid. There is one thing to be said—Italian girls are +not allowed friendly intercourse with gentlemen as we are, so there +is less risk of their forming unsuitable attachments. They go nowhere +unattended. An Italian mother is rarely seen without her daughters; +they drive with her, they pay calls with her, they receive with her, +till they attain freedom by marriage." + +"Like those three girls we are always seeing about with their +mother," said Enid; "all three dressed exactly alike, even to their +shoe-strings, and all wearing the same bored expression. I have noticed +that if a gentleman approaches their carriage on the Pincio, they +appear to say only two or three words to him. It is mamma who does the +talking." + +"Just so. Still, I believe the life of Italian girls is beginning to +improve. They are being better educated than they used to be, and a +higher mental culture must inevitably bring in for them a freer life." + +"Poor things! I trust it may speedily," said Enid. "It is deplorable to +see how poor Adela's spirit is crushed by the tyranny of her brother +and his wife; and I am afraid she practises deception to evade it." + +"Likely enough," said Maud, with scorn in her tone; "most Italian girls +have a talent for dissimulation." + + +The next time Enid went to the Casa Ravani to take her lesson in +Italian, Adela's countenance as she entered the room plainly showed +that she had been weeping violently. Her voice was so tremulous, her +manner so agitated, that Enid could see that it was only by a strong +effort that she could maintain composure. Wishing to help her to gain +control of herself, Enid for a while took no notice of her evident +distress. The pupil's exercises were examined and corrected almost in +silence; the reading which followed was scarcely interrupted, though +Enid was conscious that she made one or two slips in pronunciation. But +when the time came which they usually devoted to conversation, Enid +could no longer rest in ignorance of what was troubling her companion. + +"Now, Adela, what is it?" she said, as soon as the books were closed. +"You are in trouble, and I insist upon knowing the cause, unless it is +something I really may not know." + +But it seemed more than Adela could bear even to speak of her trouble. +In a moment her large dark eyes were full of tears, her lips quivered +when she tried to speak, and she could only sob. + +"Now don't—don't," said Enid soothingly. "Just tell me all about it, +and then perhaps it will not seem so bad. What has happened to distress +you so?" + +"It has come," sobbed Adela; "I knew it must come some day; but oh, I +hoped it would not be for a long time yet." + +"What has come?" asked Enid, full of wonder. + +"My doom," said Adela, with a tragic gesture. "Oh, signorina, if only I +were an English girl! If I were free, like you!" + +Light was beginning to break upon Enid's bewildered mind. + +"Free," she said; "do you mean free to marry or not, as one likes? Is +that your trouble, Adela? Does your brother want to make you marry +someone against your will?" + +"Ah, yes, you have guessed," said Adela with another sob; "my brother +has found a husband for me!" + +"Who is he? You do not care for him?" + +"Care for him! How should I? I have only seen him once. He is old +and he is ugly; but he is rich. My mother says I shall have my own +carriage, and drive on the Pincio every day. But what of that? Oh, +Enid, can you not guess? My heart is breaking." + +"But why should you marry this man if you do not wish to do so?" asked +Enid, with indignation in her tones. "It is preposterous to think of +such a thing. You must refuse to yield to your brother, Adela; you have +surely a right to a will of your own in this matter." + +"I dare not," said Adela; "it would be a most unheard-of thing. Indeed, +I could not be so undutiful; I should break my mother's heart. She is +so pleased, my poor mother, to think that I shall have a home of my +own; and she will live with me, for he has agreed to that." + +Enid looked grave. + +"It is not already a settled thing, Adela?" + +"Not quite; but in a few days it will be," said Adela gloomily. "I see +no way of escape. And it is not only that—oh, Enid, how shall I tell +you? Can you not guess the rest?" + +"The rest!" said Enid. "Have you not told me all the trouble? Indeed, +it seems bad enough." + +"Unhappily," said Adela—and the rich colour which suddenly suffused her +face was more significant than her words—"we Italian girls also have +hearts." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Enid in a startled tone. "Is it as bad as that—there is +someone else you care for?" + +"I could not help it," murmured Adela, her face crimson with shame. "I +saw him at Montepulciano last summer; we were there for three months, +and he was there too, making sketches—for he is an artist. We were +living outside the town; and the place was so quiet and countrified +that mamma was less particular about me. I could walk out alone, or go +into the vineyards with the good countrywoman at whose house we lodged. +And I often saw him. He had a way of finding out where I was likely to +be. He liked to talk to me, and I—I liked to see him too, I suppose. +Once he made a sketch of me. Ah, signorina, you are shocked!" + +"No, not shocked," said Enid, smiling; "and please do not call me +signorina. It was all very natural. I am sure I do not wonder that he +wanted to see you; but it is a pity you could only meet in that stolen +sort of way. But if he really loves you, Adela, as I suppose he does, +why does he not come forward and ask your brother's permission to marry +you?" + +"That would never do!" exclaimed Adela, looking frightened at the very +idea. "Oh, how angry my brother would be! Lucio is only an artist, and +an unknown one. He has no money. Do you think Francesco would consider +him a fit match for a Ravani?" + +There was a curious ring of pride in Adela's tones. It seemed as if +she too were inclined to disparage her lover's calling, and deem him +unworthy on account of it to wed with one of her ancient name. + +"I do not know what your brother's opinion may be," said Enid, warmly; +"but it seems to me that every true artist has a rank of his own, and +that ordinary mortals, whatever their birth may be, must look up to +such a one. Surely you agree with me, Adela?" + +"I don't know; I never thought about it," said Adela, opening her eyes. +"But of course I think Lucio is very clever, and I can assure you his +family is not to be despised. He has an uncle who is a rich banker at +Florence. He has no children, and Lucio was to have been his heir; +but his uncle grew angry with him because he was determined to be an +artist, and would not work in the bank. Now he will have nothing to do +with Lucio, and the poor fellow must make his own way in the world." + +"Well, that is not such a bad thing," said Enid. "If he has talent +and works hard, he will succeed in time, you may be sure. You must be +content to wait a few years for your happiness—that is all." + +"Ah, how you talk, Enid! As if it could ever be! You forget that my +brother is determined to marry me soon as possible, and has already +found a husband for me." + +"Adela, I shall lose all patience with you if you talk in that way. I +begin to think that you do not really love Lucio. If you do, you will +not dream of letting yourself be married to someone else." + +"What a thing to say!" exclaimed Adela, raising her hands in protest. +"But you do not understand; it is because you are English that the +affair seems to you so simple. How can I set myself in opposition to my +mother? You would not like to make your mother unhappy." + +"I should not, indeed," said Enid; "yet I hope I should have strength +to withstand my mother if she wanted me to do something wrong; though +really I find it impossible to imagine such a thing in connection with +my mother." + +"And my mother would say it was right; it was my duty to obey her," +said Adela. "Don't you see how difficult it is?" + +"It is perplexing, certainly," said Enid; "yet I feel convinced in my +own mind that you will be doing a wrong, even a wicked thing, if you +marry this man whom your brother has chosen for you, when your heart is +given to Lucio. Surely, if you tell your mother the whole truth, she +will not continue to urge you to this marriage. Be brave, Adela. Don't +be afraid to oppose your brother. He cannot drag you to the church by +main force." + +"Oh, I dare not think what he may not do," said Adela with a shudder. + +It was but too evident that she lacked courage, and Enid's efforts +to inspire her with the same were not apparently attended with much +success. They talked for some time longer, and when Enid rose to go +away, Adela timidly asked if she would do her a kindness. + +"By all means," said Enid, heartily; "what is it?" + +"I should like to go to-morrow to the Villa Borghese; and you know my +mother does not allow me to walk out alone. Could you accompany me?" + +"Certainly; I shall be delighted if it is a fine afternoon. I have not +been to the villa yet, but I have seen it from the Pincio, and the +walks look very inviting." + +"They are prettier in the spring, when the anemones are in flower; but +it will be pleasant there to-morrow if the weather keeps like this. +Thank you so much for consenting; it is so good of you." + +Enid went away wondering that Adela should profess so much gratitude +over what promised to be a mutual pleasure. + + +It wanted but a week to Christmas, but the next day was as bright and +beautiful as a day could be. The sky was of a soft, deep blue, the +sunshine brilliant, and the air delightfully fresh. Enid called for +Adela at the hour appointed. She found her already dressed for the +walk, and looking charming. There was no cloud on her face to-day, +nor did her beautiful dark eyes show any sign of tears. She chatted +so gaily as they walked towards the villa that Enid wondered if her +prospects had brightened, but refrained from asking any question, for +fear she should only remind her of her trouble. + +There were but few persons at the villa this afternoon. Enid was +delighted with the secluded, romantic walks, winding amid groves of +ilex, or shaded by tall pines breaking into green umbrella-shaped +foliage, which contrasted vividly with the blue of the sky. Presently +they approached an old fountain guarded by a stone nymph with a broken +nose. + +Enid's eyes were on the feathery fern fronds clustering about the base +of the fountain when she became aware that a young man had stepped from +the back of the fountain and was greeting Adela. She looked at him, and +recognised with some surprise a young Italian artist who had a studio +in the house in the Via Sistina, in which was the Studio Mariano. She +had once or twice encountered him on the stairs, and had been struck +with the exceeding courtesy of his manner as he bowed to her. Now, as +she noted the flush on Adela's cheek and the sparkle in her eyes, it +occurred to her that this could be none other than Lucio. + +"May I introduce Signor Torlono?" said Adela. + +And Enid returned the young man's bow, half amused and half annoyed +by this revelation of Adela's purpose in bringing her to the Villa +Borghese. It was by no means agreeable to Enid to play the part of a +third at such a rendezvous, and she felt vexed with Adela for having +beguiled her into doing so. Yet as they strolled on together, Enid had +so much consideration for the lovers that she occasionally paused to +examine a statue or to gather a few of the daisies which studded the +turf, thus giving the two an opportunity of exchanging confidences. +At the same time she felt thoroughly uncomfortable in the position in +which she found herself. She hated concealments and deceptions of all +kinds. Had she been asked, she would never have agreed to help Adela to +meet her lover clandestinely. + +For more than an hour they walked about the villa. The time seemed +rather long to Enid, but doubtless it passed rapidly enough with the +other two. + +"Do you not think it is time we turned homewards?" asked Enid at +length. "It is getting damp under these trees." + +"I suppose we must go," said Adela, reluctantly. + +Signor Torlono did not pass through the gates in their company, but +parted from them ere they reached the entrance, and strolled back into +the shade of the trees alone. + +"I know you are vexed with me, Enid," said Adela, when they had walked +for some minutes in silence. + +"Well, yes," said Enid, frankly; "I hate such ways, Adela. Don't ask me +to go with you to meet Signor Torlono again unless your mother knows +that you are going to see him." + +"You will not tell anyone about it? You will keep my secret?" said +Adela, imploringly. + +"No, I will not tell anyone that you met Signor Torlono this +afternoon," said Enid, after a moment's reflection. + +"Do not be hard on me!" pleaded Adela. "I was obliged to see him—I +wanted to tell him all about it." + +"How did you let him know that you would be at the villa this +afternoon?" + +Adela coloured and looked confused. It was evident she was ashamed of +the means she had adopted. "Oh, I managed it," was all she said. + +"And what does he say?" + +"Oh, he is in despair—poor Lucio! But he says as you do, that I must +not yield, and that my brother cannot make me marry if I refuse to do +so." + +"Of course not," said Enid. "Now take my advice; go home and tell your +mother all about it. Let her know how you and Lucio care for each +other; let her know that you have seen him this afternoon. Keep nothing +back. Depend upon it that is the best way. You will only make more +trouble for yourself if you hide things." + +"But she will be so angry," said Adela. + +"Never mind if she is," returned Enid. "Perhaps you deserve a little +scolding. Be brave, and make a bold stand, and the worst will soon be +over." + +"I will try to be brave," said Adela, "but I have not your spirit, +Enid—I wish I had." + +Then they parted at the end of the street in which Adela lived, and +Enid went home to her "pension." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE + +CHRISTMAS came, and Enid Mildmay found the season at Rome very unlike +the ideal English Christmas. True, bunches of red-berried holly were +being sold at high prices in the Piazza di Spagna, small fir-trees in +pots were ranged outside the florists' shops, and the loveliest toys +and presents of all descriptions were displayed in the windows on the +Corso. But the weather continued exceedingly mild; fires and wraps +were scarcely necessary; and ices for which the Romans have an amazing +predilection, continued to be an acceptable form of refreshment at +every social gathering. + +It was not Christmas to Enid, and the letters and cards which came to +her from home gave her the worst home-sickness she had as yet felt. +She pictured to herself the party gathered about the table in the +shabby old dining-room at home, and she longed to be with them. She +knew that they would think and speak of the absent one. She thought +with an aching heart of the Christmas-tree which would be lighted up in +the evening, of the snapdragons in which the boys delighted, and the +fun and frolic with which the day would end. She even shed tears over +the dainty little woollen wrap which her mother had knitted and sent +to her. It was weak and sentimental of her, perhaps; but this was the +first Christmas Enid had spent away from home, so perhaps she may be +forgiven for indulging in a little emotion on the occasion. + +Maud gave herself a few days' relaxation, and went with Enid from +church to church to see the strange spectacles and curious ceremonies +with which the Romish Church celebrates the anniversary of our +Saviour's birth. She had seen them before, and took an æsthetic +pleasure in marking the effects of crimson drapery and glittering +lights, or in listening to the exquisite music which accompanied many +of the services. But what beauty there was, was spoilt for Enid by her +sense of the childishness of many of the displays, and the superstition +which they expressed. It was dreadful to her to see people reverencing +as an object of worship an ugly painted doll with a gold crown stuck +upon its head, or bowing in adoration before the gaudy theatrical show +of a "Precepio." The tinsel crowns stuck upon paintings of the Madonna +and Child, the grotesque-looking dolls set up to represent the Holy +Babe, the showily-decked images, the lavish display of dingy artificial +flowers, disgusted Enid's taste, whilst it filled her with pity for +the poor, ignorant people, to impress whose dull minds such means are +employed. + +The English and American visitors in Rome attend in great numbers +the famous church services, and at most to which the girls went they +saw Julius Dakin in the company of Miss Amory. They generally met +and exchanged a few words on these occasions. On Christmas morning +at St. Maria in Ara Cœli, Julius drew Enid aside from the others to +show her the little chapel decorated with the beautiful frescoes of +Pinturicchio, and then, in the solitude that is to be found in the +midst of a crowd, Enid was led on to talk to him of the Christmas +at home, half unconsciously revealing her yearning to be there. She +wondered, and was half ashamed afterwards, to think how much she had +told him about herself and her dear ones. + +"I really must not talk so much of myself again," she thought; "it is +so foolish; but somehow he seemed interested. He has such a sympathetic +manner—it can be only his manner. Perhaps in reality he was bored. I +must be on my guard against abusing his kindness another time." + + +The Christmas excitements over, Enid again settled steadily to work. +She had no lack of occupation. Three mornings a week she spent in the +studio of Herr Schmitz, and they were long mornings, for that severe +master reproved her for laziness if she presented herself there later +than half-past eight. Nor was he anxious to make her tasks agreeable +to her. He persistently chose the most difficult casts in his studio +for her to draw from, and if he perceived that Enid had a dislike +to any subject he suggested, he at once insisted on her undertaking +it. He required such care and accuracy in her charcoal drawings, and +appeared so impatient of the least defect, that Enid was at times in +despair, and but for a fear of seeming ungrateful for his kindness she +would have discontinued her visits to his studio. But when he had by +his severe words and manner impressed her with the conviction that she +would never be able to draw, and might as well abandon the idea, Herr +Schmitz would generally relent, and begin to encourage her again, for +in truth it was his perception of the real talent she possessed that +made him require of her such excellence. + +Although when with him, he made her draw steadily from plaster casts, +he was willing that she should continue at other times the flower +and fruit painting which was her special delight, and condescended +to examine and criticise any which she liked to show him. In this +way, Enid made rapid progress, and even Maud, in spite of her jealous +dislike to doing so, was forced to acknowledge the excellence of her +work. + +Maud too was working diligently in her way; but she had adopted a +vicious style of painting, and self-love and vanity rendered her +blind to its defects. Occasionally she was dissatisfied with her +performances, and indulged in a little melancholy; but she never +doubted long that she was destined to do great things, nor apparently +ever questioned that she had done right in leaving her father to live +solitary whilst she pursued the life of an artist in the city she loved. + +"How unreasonable papa is," she said one day, as she threw down a +letter she had received from her father; "he actually suggests that I +should return home at the end of February." + +"I do not wonder he wants you to return," said Enid; "he must be very +dull without you." + +"Dull! Not he. You do not know my father, Enid," said Maud. "He is +always absorbed in business; that is all he cares for, and in the +evening he comes home tired out, and can only sit by the fire with a +book, over which very often he will fall asleep. He cannot really miss +me, and it is selfish of him to want to cut short my pleasure. But men +are selfish." + +"And are women never so?" was the question which rose to Enid's lips, +but she refrained from asking it. + +They were in the studio, and Enid was already at work upon a painting +which she was finishing with great care. It represented a little branch +cut from an orange tree, with a couple of oranges, one ripe and one +just changing colour, whilst just within the juncture of the stems +lingered a lovely blossom. Enid's model had been given to her by one +of the monks of the monastery of St. Sabina, who had cut it for her, +not from the famous orange tree planted by St. Dominic, but from one of +its numerous offshoots. She had succeeded better than could be expected +with what was really a difficult subject, and Herr Schmitz had praised +the harmony of colour she had maintained throughout her work. + +"That is really good, Enid," said Maud, as she rose from the easy chair +by the stove where she had seated herself to read her letters; "I like +the look of your blossom." + +"I cannot quite get the transparency I want," said Enid, moving a +few paces from her easel to survey her work. "What do you think Herr +Schmitz has proposed that I should do with this?" + +"How can I tell?" + +"He suggests that I should send it to the exhibition of the 'Belli +Arti.'" + +"Does he? Then you had better do so." + +"Oh, do you think I might? You are going to send some pictures, are you +not?" + +"Yes, I have promised to send three. I must make haste and get them +done, for they must be sent in by the end of February." + +"Herr Schmitz actually hinted that it was just possible someone might +buy my picture. Would not that be grand?" + +"Would you care to sell it?" asked Maud, with an air of superiority. + +"Certainly. I should be delighted if anyone would give me a hundred +francs for it. I see so many pretty things here that I should like to +buy for mother and the girls. How rich I should feel with a hundred +francs to spend as I liked!" + +Maud looked rather wistfully at her cousin. "It must be nice to have a +mother and sisters to think about. I wonder sometimes what difference +it would have made in me if I had had a sister. I guess—as Miss Amory +would say—I should not have been just the girl I am." + +At that moment, someone knocked at the door of the studio. It was the +porter, who handed in a note addressed to Enid. The writer was Signora +Ravani, who courteously expressed regret that her daughter could no +longer continue to give Enid lessons in Italian, since the state of +her health obliged her to leave home for a while. If agreeable to Miss +Mildmay and Miss Marian, Adela would give herself the pleasure of +calling at their studio at half-past three that afternoon to bid them +adieu. + +"Well, this is an astonishing thing," said Enid, showing her cousin the +note. "Adela was quite well when I saw her a week ago, and we arranged +to recommence the lessons on Monday." + +"I dare say her health is only an excuse," said Maud; "and they have +some other motive for sending her away. No doubt, it is the doing of +that amiable brother of hers." + +"No doubt," said Enid, at once conceiving that Adela had dared to +resist her brother's will with regard to her marriage, and that this +was the result. + +"At what hour will she be here this afternoon?" + +"At three—no, at half-past three. Signora Ravani wrote three at first, +and then altered it." + +"I am sorry I shall not be here. I promised to go shopping with Miss +Amory this afternoon; but I dare say Signorina Ravani will be just as +pleased to find you alone." + +So Maud did not return to the studio in the afternoon. + +Whilst awaiting Adela's coming, Enid bethought herself of something +she wished to say to Miss Strutt, and ran down to her studio. As she +passed along the narrow passage which led to it, the door at the end, +from which a flight of steps descended into the garden, stood open. +The glimpse of blue sky and glorious sunshine which it afforded was so +inviting that Enid instinctively passed on to the doorway, and stood +for a few moments looking into the garden. + +Suddenly two forms emerged from the shade of the old orange trees laden +with golden fruit, and to her surprise, Enid recognised Adela and the +young painter, Lucio Torlono. Enid shrank back hastily; but she need +have had no fear of their seeing her—they were far too absorbed in +their talk together. Wondering how Adela had managed to secure this +interview with her lover, Enid hastily made her call on Miss Strutt, +and then hurried back to her studio. But it was more than half-past +three ere Adela made her appearance. + +She came in looking pale and weary, and her eyes showed traces of +tears. They began to flow again as Enid affectionately enquired +concerning her health. + +"There is nothing the matter with me," she said, "except that I am very +unhappy. I have tried to hold out bravely, Enid; I have refused to +marry to please my brother; but oh, I have had a dreadful time, and now +they are sending me away. I am to be shut up in a convent until I come +to my right mind, as Francesco says. I suppose if I do not yield they +will keep me there for ever." + +"That is surely impossible," said Enid. "Women cannot be shut up in +convents against their wills in these days." + +Adela shook her head despairingly. "You do not know Francesco," she +said; "he can always accomplish what he wishes. Besides, our uncle, the +Abbé Ravani, is the director of this convent, and he and Francesco are +great friends. It is in a lonely place, away amongst the hills. Once +there, I shall not easily escape." + +"But it is dreadful, too dreadful, that your brother should have you so +completely in his power," said Enid. "I would defy him if I were you, +and refuse to go." + +"That is impossible. You do not know what it means to defy him. Lucio +says he cannot endure it; he will find some way to free me; but what +can he do? I have no hope—none." + +"How did you manage to come here alone this afternoon?" + +"Oh, my mother brought me to the door, and she will call for me again +at four o'clock." + +"So soon," said Enid; "that gives us very little time together." + +"Yes; forgive me, Enid; I have robbed you of half the time because I +wanted to see Lucio. I could not go away without bidding him good-bye. +Did you notice that the time had been altered in the note?" + +"I noticed that Signora Ravani had written three o'clock and then +altered it to half-past three." + +"I made that alteration. I contrived to open the envelope after mamma +had closed it, and I changed the time. Ah, you are shocked; but you +might excuse it. I should not have done it if I could have been sure +of finding you alone; but I thought your cousin would be here, and it +would be so difficult to explain. By altering the time I secured half +an hour with Lucio without causing you any inconvenience." + +Enid was silent. She was really afraid of showing what she thought of +Adela's conduct. To stoop to such petty deceits, to open envelopes and +tamper with letters, was a kind of meanness so utterly removed from +Enid's open, honourable nature that it well-nigh quenched her pity for +Adela's unhappy fate. She could not at once make allowance for the +training in duplicity and falsehood which it was plain the poor girl +had had. + +"I assure you I had hard work to come at all," continued Adela, anxious +to defend herself. "I had to beg and beg before mamma would yield. +Francesco would be very angry if he knew I had come to see you, for he +thinks you have taught me to rebel." + +"I wish I could have taught you to rebel more successfully, my poor +Adela," said Enid sadly. "Did you tell your mother about Lucio?" + +"I did, though I wished afterwards I had not told her. She was +dreadfully shocked and grieved. She said she could never have believed +that her daughter was capable of acting and feeling as I have done. You +may be sure I did not tell her that Lucio's studio was in this house, +or she would not have allowed me to come here to-day." + +"Oh, Adela, it would have been so much better to have told her all," +said Enid. "No good can come of half confidences; they only complicate +matters, and make them worse." + +But Adela could not see this. She cried and bemoaned her unhappy fate, +and Enid was at a loss how to console her. It was a melancholy time +they spent together, and Enid felt it almost a relief when the porter +came to say that Signora Ravani was waiting below for her daughter. +They parted sadly, and Adela, struggling hard to keep back her tears, +went downstairs to join her mother. + +She had not been gone many seconds when someone else knocked at the +door of the studio. + +"Come in," said Enid mechanically. + +And Julius Dakin walked into the room. + +"Alone!" he said. "And not at work! Actually!" + +"Actually," said Enid, smiling. "I have not been working this +afternoon. I have had a visitor." + +"Was it the young lady I met on the stairs, and who seemed to be in a +tearful condition?" + +"Signorina Ravani has been here. I am afraid your description may apply +to her." + +"Yes, it was she. I remember her now—your Italian teacher. Was she +weeping over the perversity of her pupil?" + +In vain Enid tried to foil his questions. He could see that the +trouble, whatever it might be, was one which she shared, and gently, +skilfully, little by little, he drew from her the story of Adela's +unhappy attachment and its consequences. + +"I know Torlono," he said. "He is a clever fellow; he will do something +good one of these days, I believe. It was a shame of his uncle to throw +him over; but he will think better of it yet." + +"Do you think so?" asked Enid eagerly. + +"Well, I should hope so. My father knows old Torlono, but not well +enough to interfere in the matter, I am afraid. + +"Oh, if only he could," said Enid earnestly. "I mean, if there were any +hope of success." + +"Just so. The attempt might do more harm than good. But I will speak to +my father, and hear what he thinks about it." + +"Thank you—oh, thank you!" said Enid heartily. + +He looked down on her with a strange expression on his face. + +"How seriously you take up your friends' troubles!" he said. "You make +them your very own. You have sympathy for everyone except me." + +"You, Mr. Dakin," exclaimed Enid, colouring vividly in her surprise. +"How can you possibly need my sympathy?" + +"Oh, of course you think I have no troubles. You think me an idle, +worthless fellow, incapable of feeling anything deeply." + +"I think that!" exclaimed Enid, astonished. "What can you mean?" + +"Oh, I know; I can read your mind. I can see that you deem me frivolous +and shallow—that you have a low opinion of me, in fact." + +"Mr. Dakin! I have no such thing. I think you most kind. But you are +only joking; it is absurd of me to take your words seriously." + +"I am not joking, and do not you try to put me off with smooth words. +You know that we agreed that we would always speak the truth to each +other. You cannot deny that you think me a poor creature, a lazy +good-for-nothing, unfit to be named in the same breath with such a man +as your father, for instance, of whom you are so proud." + +"I do deny it," said Enid, her colour deepening as she spoke. "Now I +will tell you the very truth. I do not think you frivolous and shallow; +but I fancy sometimes that you try to appear so, and it makes me sorry, +because—well, because I am sure you are capable of better things." + +"Thank you," said Julius in a low voice; and then he turned from her +and moved about the studio, looking at this thing and that without, +however, really observing anything. + +Enid wondered if he were offended. But presently he came back to her +and held out his hand. + +"Thank you," he said again; "I will try to deserve your good opinion. I +will see if I cannot do something to please you." + +[Illustration] + +"Not to please me," said Enid; "do try to do something and be something +in the world; but let it be from a high motive." + +"What motive?" he asked. + +"What motive?" she repeated. "Can it be necessary to ask here in Rome +what should be the motive of a true man's life—here, where so many +heroes and martyrs laid down their lives rather than disobey the voice +of duty and of God? The past seems to me to teach so solemn a lesson." + +"What lesson?" he asked. + +For a few moments she did not reply. Then she said in low, grave tones, +"'That the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth +the will of God abideth for ever.'" + +Julius Dakin did not reply to her words. He laid down some tickets Miss +Marian had asked him to procure for her, and to bring, which had been +his errand to the studio, then went away. + + + +CHAPTER X + +A PASSIONATE ACT + +AFTER Julius Dakin had left the studio, Enid sat for awhile doing +nothing. It was not like her thus to sit in idleness; but she was in a +mood which was altogether strange to her. She was excited—so excited +that she would have found it impossible to wield a brush or so to +control either hand or mind as to produce her best work. + +Of course she believed that it was Adela's coming, and the painful +nature of her visit that had unsettled her so; yet had she carefully +analysed her feelings, she could not have said that they were entirely +sad. And in truth as she sat absorbed, not knowing how the minutes +passed; it was less of Adela than of Julius Dakin that she was +thinking. She was recalling all she had told him about Adela, and how +he had listened to her words, and what he had said, with everything +that had followed. Not words alone repeated themselves to her inner +consciousness, but looks and tones. + +Somehow that brief interview had left her with much to think over. +With a strange thrill she thought of the words she had dared to say to +him, not regretting them but wondering that she had found courage to +say what she had, wondering too at the gentleness with which he had +received her admonition, which surely many young men would have been +inclined to resent. + +Perhaps Enid became conscious at last of the dangerous course her +thoughts were pursuing. Certainly she started up as the time-piece +struck four, with a sudden sense of the absurdity of spending a fine +afternoon, at Rome of all places, in doing absolutely nothing, and in a +room lighted from above with no view of the outer world. + +In a few minutes, she had donned her hat and jacket, and was on her way +to the Pincio. + +On this bright afternoon there was the usual crowd on the terrace +facing the band-stand. Carriages were drawn up in rows in the centre of +the open space, most of them empty, their possessors preferring to walk +about as they listened to the music. The scene was one of which Enid +felt that she would never weary. It was a delight to her to gaze over +the widespread view of Rome, a delight which had only increased as each +object which met her view became familiar, till she could name every +dome and roof on which her eyes rested. Nor was languid her interest in +the various human elements of which the crowd about her was composed. +The foreign visitors, representing so many nationalities, and who might +be classified as the fashionable, the pretty, and the picturesque, +afforded Enid entertainment; and as she passed to and fro in the +sunshine, her face showed that her thoughts were as bright as the day. +For if she thought of Adela now, the girl's unhappy lot cast no heavy +shadow on Enid's heart. Indeed, she was half disposed to reproach +herself with hard-heartedness, so much did the excitement of her mood +tend to gladness. A new and exquisite happiness seemed to be welling up +within her, the secret source of which she herself did not know. + +Then of a sudden, all was changed. It was curious that the sight of +Julius Dakin coming round a bend of the road should set Enid's heart +beating with painful rapidity; still more curious that she should be +conscious only of a desire to avoid him. She hurried towards the side +of the terrace whence a flight of steps descended to the lower road. +As she stepped down, she looked back. He had passed on without seeing +her; he was advancing towards an open carriage, in which sat two young +ladies. It was perhaps the smartest equipage, and its occupants the two +most charming girls, to be seen on the Pincio that day. + +With a sensation wholly new to her, Enid watched him greeting with +his courtliest air and most fascinating smile Blanche Amory and Maud +Marian. As she went quickly down the steps, the words she had overheard +at Mrs. Dakin's reception came vividly to her mind—"Julius Dakin knows +how to make himself agreeable to ladies," and she remembered too how in +the same conversation the names of both these girls had been coupled +with his. Enid descended the winding path with her head held high and +her lips firmly compressed. + +"I am glad I said what I did to him this afternoon," she thought, +"though I do not suppose it will make any difference. I hate the idea +of a man living just to please himself, taking everything the world can +give him and paying nothing back. But that is Julius Dakin's way—he +never thinks of any debt he owes to others; he has no desire to serve +the world. And I—I despise a man like that!" + +And there was a strangely stern expression on Enid's fresh young face +as she crossed the Piazza del Popolo and took her way home by the Via +del Babuino. But ere she reached the house, sternness had given way +to sadness. A feeling of weariness and home-sickness swept over her +which was hard to bear. She felt a great yearning for her mother's +presence, her gentle, helpful sympathy. And the last letter from +home had given her such an account of her mother's health as caused +her uneasiness. Enid was not naturally inclined either to anxiety or +melancholy; but now every dark suggestion, every sad thought she had +before experienced, came back to her mind with renewed force. She was +depressed both in mind and body when she gained her room, and it was a +relief to know that Maud was out, and she might indulge her mood for a +while without fear of interruption. + + +But not for long did Enid give way to melancholy. The next day she +was herself again. Her little picture was finished and sent away to +be framed, in readiness for the exhibition. That very day she began a +painting of a bunch of violets in a little earthenware jar—a simple +enough subject, but by no means easy to treat successfully. Working +away at it, however, in her careful, painstaking way, Enid achieved +a very fair result. Meanwhile, Maud was engaged every morning with a +model, a handsome, dark-eyed girl, who wore one of the picturesque +costumes of the Campagna. It must be confessed that the girl's beauty +suffered at Maud's hands. The face which looked forth from her canvas +had a hardness of colouring and a boldness of glance of which the +original was not guilty. But defects of this kind did not disturb +Maud's complacency. She had a curious way of anticipating and disarming +criticism. + +"I know my model's hair was not like that," she would say; "but really +I prefer the hair I have given her. She ought to have had hair of that +shade, don't you see?" + +Or—"No, her eyes had not that expression; they had a melancholy look; +but I do not approve of melancholy subjects, so I was glad to give her +a cheerful air. You see, I must paint in my own way, or not at all." + +"Undoubtedly," said a gentleman to whom Maud made this remark on one +of the afternoons when she was "At home" to her friends; "that is the +prerogative of genius. Art should give us more than a mere copy of +Nature; it should improve upon Nature." + +To Enid's surprise, her cousin accepted this response with complacency, +and seemed unconscious of the satire which doubtless lurked in it. + +Miss Marian was "At home" each Wednesday afternoon, and between four +and six o'clock on that day the Studio Mariano presented a lively +scene. Whatever might be thought of her powers as an artist, her studio +was undoubtedly an attractive place, and she had a knack of making +people enjoy the time they spent there. Men found her both pretty +and clever, and were struck with the grace of her manner; whilst +women, though they might object to the colour of her hair, criticise +unfavourably her features, and resent the airs she gave herself, were +nevertheless won by her good-nature. + +Enid generally found plenty of entertainment on her cousin's reception +afternoon. It devolved on her to look after the prosaic details +connected with the making and serving of the tea; but these did not +prevent her from having a good time. She liked to see the people who +came, and to listen to the lively talk that went on. Perhaps she +enjoyed it all the more because she had only a secondary part to play, +and her duties kept her much in the background. Many of Maud's visitors +were of opinion that her cousin was a quiet, rather dull girl. They +would have been surprised had they known how keenly the "dull" girl +had observed them, and how clearly she had detected their various +weaknesses and vanities. For it must be confessed that Enid was rather +a "quiz." + +Enid was disturbed to see Miss Amory, attended by Julius Dakin, enter +the studio on the following Wednesday afternoon. She had not spoken to +him since he found her alone there four days earlier. She was nervously +conscious of the words that had passed between them on that occasion. +She tried to occupy herself with the other visitors, and to avoid +saying more to him than was absolutely necessary. + +But it did not please him to be thus ignored. He watched his +opportunity, and presently, when several persons rose to depart, and +there was a general break in the conversation, Enid found him by her +side. + +"What are you painting now, Miss Mildmay, if I may ask?" + +"You may ask, certainly," said Enid, smiling. + +"You do not mean that you will refuse to tell me? Oh, please let me see +it. This is your easel, is it not?" + +Enid, forseeing endless entreaties, thought she might as well yield at +once, and uncovered her painting. + +"Ah, this is something new!" he exclaimed. "Did you finish the orange +spray?" + +"Yes, and it is gone to the framer's." + +"Ah, that is right. And you really mean to send it to the exhibition?" + +"I think so." + +"I am glad. It will win a medal, I am sure." + +"Oh, I do not expect that," said Enid, smiling. "But now, how do you +think this promises?" + +"I think it very good—so good that—Shall I tell you what I wish?" + +"Certainly." + +"I wish you would paint it for me. I mean, I wish you would be so good +as to allow me to purchase it." + +"Oh, Mr. Dakin!" exclaimed Enid, colouring hotly in her surprise. "I +could not do such a thing." + +"Why not? Are you too proud to sell your pictures?" + +"No, not that," said Enid, with considerable hesitation; "but I do not +like the idea of selling one to you." + +"You think me incapable of appreciating it?" + +"You know it is not that," said Enid, forced to smile. "But—well—that +one in the exhibition will be for sale; you can buy that if you like." + +"Thank you, but I do not desire that. I want to have something you have +painted throughout for me." + +"If I painted anything for you," said Enid slowly, "I would not sell it +to you." + +"No, really!" There was a strange, surprised, glad look in his eyes as +he bent towards her. His glance met and arrested hers. + +With a strange thrill she awaited the words he was about to utter; but +they remained unsaid, for at that moment the high thin voice of Miss +Amory made itself heard from the other side of the room. + +"Julius, where on earth are you? Do come and look at this lovely thing +of Miss Marian's. It is real elegant." + +Julius cast a comical glance at Enid as he turned to obey the summons. +An inspection of Maud's pictures followed, and Enid observed that +Julius found something commendatory to say of each. Miss Amory made +remarks on them with her usual freedom. + +"It is a treat to see some new pictures," she observed. "I am so tired +of those dim old things in front of which you have to keep moving +about for a month till you find a spot where you can see them. I like +something you can see straight away. But don't you think that girl +looks a bit sick? Her eyes are not right, anyhow; but you've given her +an awful cunning gown." + +Enid was thankful that Miss Amory's attention was not drawn to any of +her work. She hastily covered up her own little painting, and nothing +more was said about it. A few minutes later Miss Amory and her escort +took their departure. + + +Enid went on painting her violets with a new pleasure in her work. She +was tremulously anxious to succeed, and far from satisfied with her +performance, yet it was good. The thought of Julius Dakin was with +her as she worked. She had resolved that she would receive no money +from him for the little picture. Yet in truth, though dreamily, scarce +consciously, she was painting it for him. She meant that he should +have it, though she had no clear idea of how it would be possible for +her to give it to him. She had almost finished the work. It lacked but +those finishing touches which the eye of a connoisseur alone could have +detected to be wanting. + +"Why do you keep touching that thing?" Maud said to her impatiently one +day; "those trifling details can make no real difference." + +"I wish Herr Schmitz could hear you say that," returned Enid; "he would +certainly repeat for your benefit his favourite story." + +"What is that?" asked Maud. + +"Oh, it relates to his hero, Michael Angelo. A friend once visited the +sculptor, and found him engaged upon a statue. Some weeks later the +visit was repeated. + +"'You have been idle since I was here,' remarked the friend, looking at +Michael Angelo's work, in which he discerned no progress. + +"'By no means,' said the sculptor. 'I have softened this feature and +brought out that muscle. I have given expression to that lip, and more +energy to that limb.' + +"'Well, but these are mere trifles,' said his friend. + +"'It may be so,' replied Michael Angelo, 'but remember, trifles make +perfection, and perfection is no trifle.'" + +"I can quite imagine Herr Schmitz telling that story," said Maud +disdainfully; "but I must say I do not admire that sort of perfection. +I believe in the artist who can produce a great effect with a few +strokes. Things laboriously wrought are often failures. You may work +away at a picture till you spoil it utterly." + +"That is true, as I have learned by experience," said Enid. "Still, it +is well to strive one's hardest; and perfection is perfection, however +attained. Yet, I doubt if Michael Angelo ever thought his work perfect." + + +Enid took the warning which her cousin's words suggested. She would +not work upon her violets till she spoiled them. She resolved to lay +the painting aside for a day or two that she might return to it with +fresher vision, and be better able to judge of its merits. So she gave +herself a holiday on the following day, and spent its hours in visiting +some of the many interesting spots in old Rome. + +Returning to the studio late in the afternoon, she found Maud putting +away her work and obviously not in the best of humours. + +"Julius Dakin has been here," she said, after a few minutes. "He stayed +ever so long, and hindered me dreadfully." + +"Did he?" said Enid, wondering that her cousin should speak as if his +visit were a cause of annoyance. + +"Yes, and he looked at that painting of yours, Enid. He would look at +it, although I told him you did not like your work meddled with." + +"That was very rude of him," said Enid; but she did not speak in an +offended tone. "What did he think of it?" + +"Oh, he professes to think most highly of it," replied Maud; "he wants +to buy it of you." + +"I know he does," said Enid smiling; "but I do not mean to sell it to +him." + +"Why not? What nonsense, Enid, when you know you would be glad of the +money! I am sure he means it very kindly." + +"Very kindly!" repeated Enid, in a tone of surprise. + +"Yes, I am sure he does it out of kindness." + +"Does what out of kindness?" demanded Enid. "What do you mean, Maud?" + +Her cousin gave a constrained little laugh. "Are you so vain, Enid, as +to suppose that he is really anxious to possess that painting of yours? +You must know that I told him some time ago that you would be glad to +make a little money by selling some of your things. It is just a piece +of his good-nature. He wants to be kind to you—that is all." + +A burning flush mounted in Enid's face as she heard her cousin's +words. She stood motionless, gazing at her little painting, which was +still exposed upon the easel, with a revulsion of feeling that was +unendurable. She could not have told why Maud's words had such power to +sting her; she did not understand the meaning of the passionate anger +and the sense of outraged pride which possessed her; she only knew that +it was intolerable, and demanded some vent. + +Maud repented of her words as soon as they were uttered. She was +dismayed as she marked their effect—dismayed and conscience-stricken, +for she knew they had been insincerely uttered; and she was a girl who +prided herself on her truthfulness. + +"Why do you look like that? Surely you need not mind," she began. + +But the next moment her voice rose high in consternation. "Don't, Enid! +What are you thinking of?" + +But she could not arrest her cousin's action. Enid seized her painting, +tore it passionately into several pieces, and threw them within the +open door of the stove. A flame sprang from the glowing coal and +consumed in a moment the work of many days. + +"How could you, Enid?" cried Maud, in great distress. "You must be mad!" + +"Perhaps I am," said Enid, in a voice strangely unlike her own; "but +you see now how anxious I am to make money by selling my pictures, and +also how grateful I am for such kindness as that of Mr. Julius Dakin." + +With these words on her lips, she walked out of the studio, and Maud +was left to her own reflections, which were by no means of an agreeable +nature. + +Running blindly down the stairs, with no purpose save a desire to +get away from Maud, Enid came upon Miss Strutt slowly ascending the +staircase with several small parcels in her hand. The girl would have +passed without a word had not Miss Strutt caught her by the arm. + +"Enid, what has happened? Where are you going?" + +"Nothing! At least, nothing that I can tell you," said Enid, making an +effort to conquer her agitation. + +"Then do not tell me," said Miss Strutt, kindly; "only—whither are you +going in such haste?" + +"I am going nowhere in particular," said Enid, looking down in shame. +"I suppose I was going to the 'pension.'" + +"Come to my room instead," said Miss Strutt soothingly. "I am just +going to make myself a cup of tea, and I should be glad of your +company." + +Enid hesitated. "I had better not come now," she said; "I am not in a +mood to be good company for anyone." + +"Then come and be bad company," said Miss Strutt smiling. "My dear, I +see you are in trouble, and I will not worry you. I will give you a +cup of good tea—they say tea is a comfort to women in every sort of +trouble—and you need not say a word unless you like." + +So Enid followed her. By this time her passion was spent, and she was +beginning to be thoroughly ashamed of the way in which it had moved her. + +Miss Strutt placed the girl in a comfortable chair by the stove, and +then left her alone whilst she busied herself in emptying the small +grocery packets she had been purchasing. She had many preparations to +make ere the tea was ready. Maud would have been moved to contemptuous +pity, could she have watched the precise, particular way in which the +old maid arranged everything, and she would certainly have laughed at +the odd figure Miss Strutt presented as she moved about in a short +full-flounced skirt, of a style that for many years had ceased to be +the mode. + +But Enid was too absorbed in her own sorrowful thoughts to pay any heed +to Miss Strutt. That lady, however, was quietly observing Enid, and she +presently saw her turn her head aside, and knew that she was shedding +tears. But still Miss Strutt kept silence. At last, when the tea was +made, she drew a little table to Enid's side, and placed on it a cup of +tea and some biscuits. + +"There, my dear," she said kindly, "take your tea, and you will feel +better afterwards." + +Enid looked up at her with eyes full of tears. + +"Miss Strutt," she said, "you have no idea what a dreadful temper I +have." + +"Have you?" said Miss Strutt smiling. "Well, certainly I had no such +idea." + +"Well, I wish I could take things quietly," continued Enid; "but when +anything vexes me, I fire up, and speak so angrily, and do things for +which I am sorry afterwards. Maud has far more self-control than I +have." + +"It is a good thing to have self-control," said Miss Strutt. "Some +persons are naturally cool and self-possessed; but for one of your +temperament, self-restraint is never easy. You can only learn to +control yourself by constant effort and much watchfulness." + +"That is what mother has often told me," said Enid, with a sigh; "and I +thought I had learned to conquer my temper; but I suppose it was only +that I found it easy to be good-tempered when I was at home. So many +things have happened to put me out since I came to Rome. And I thought +I was going to be so happy here!" + +Enid's tears began to gather anew. + +"You have been happy," said Miss Strutt. "Don't magnify your troubles, +child. I am sure it has often gladdened my heart to see your bright +face, for I like to feel that some lives are full of sunshine, though +mine is lived in the shade. You have had much enjoyment since you came +to Rome." + +"Indeed I have—you are right," said Enid, smiling in spite of herself. +"But I do not think I can enjoy anything more. I would go home +to-morrow if I could." + +"Oh, nonsense! This will pass," said Miss Strutt briskly. "You young +things always fancy that your troubles are going to last for ever. In +a week's time, you will be as eager to remain in Rome as you were at +first. And what would Herr Schmitz say if you ran away? You forget your +work. How are you getting on with your violets, by-the-bye?" + +"I tore the painting up this afternoon," said Enid, colouring deeply. + +"My dear, you do not mean that!" exclaimed Miss Strutt quickly. "What +could make you do so? You seemed to me to be succeeding so well. If you +got your colours into a muddle, you should have come to me before doing +anything so desperate." + +"It was not that," said Enid, with deepening confusion; "it was not +because I was disgusted with my work. I did it in a fit of temper." + +Miss Strutt looked amazed. + +"It was very foolish of me," faltered Enid. "I am sorry for it now—but +it is too late." + +"Such regrets are generally too late," said Miss Strutt gravely. "Well, +it is a good thing you only destroyed your picture. Greater things are +often destroyed in a fit of temper—friendships, loves—that are very +precious. Ah, it is terrible to think what one may be led to do or say +under the influence of passion." + +Enid felt the solemnity of her tone. "Oh, Miss Strutt," she said, "I am +frightened at myself sometimes! It is so hard to be right." + +"Yes, life is not easy," said the elder woman; "at least, a true life +never is. We must strive and struggle if we would follow the path of +perfection. 'If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and +take up his, cross and follow Me.' But the end is worth the struggle." + +She laid down her cup, rose, and crossed the room to where a bureau +stood against the wall. Enid did not watch her movements. She was +thinking of what Miss Strutt had said. There was silence for some +minutes. + +Miss Strutt was bending over a small picture which she had taken from a +drawer. She looked at it long, and hesitated. At last, placing it on an +easel, she said, turning to the girl— + +"Enid, look here! This is something I have never shown you." + +Enid looked up. On the easel was a portrait, executed in water-colour, +of a young man. + +"Did you do that?" she asked, in surprise. "I did not know that you +painted portraits." + +"I do not as a rule. That was painted from memory, with the aid of a +photograph." + +Something in Miss Strutt's manner restrained Enid from asking +questions. She looked at the portrait. It was that of a young man about +five-and-twenty years of age. It was a good, even a handsome face. +The broad, finely-arched brow, the strongly-moulded features, the +thoughtful expression, seemed to betoken intellectual power. He could +hardly be said to resemble Miss Strutt, and yet there was that in the +face which subtly suggested hers. + +"That is the portrait of my brother," said Miss Strutt, when the +silence had lasted some minutes. + +"Your brother!" said Enid, in surprise. She could not remember having +heard Miss Strutt speak before of this or any relative. + +"Is he living?" she added, after a moment. + +"Yes, he lives," said Miss Strutt, and her voice sounded strange to +Enid's ears. She looked at her, and saw that the little woman was +greatly agitated. + +"He is my only brother," said Miss Strutt presently. "That is what +he looked like long ago, for he is older than I. We were so fond and +proud of him, my mother and I; perhaps, we had a right to be, for he +had great gifts. We were always poor, for my father died when I was +a little child. My mother made great sacrifices to give her children +a good education. I early began to earn money by teaching, whilst at +the same time, I practised drawing constantly, for I always hoped to +be an artist. Every penny my mother and I could save we put aside that +Hugh might go to college. He was so clever, we felt sure that he would +distinguish himself. We thought he had a great future before him." + +Miss Strutt paused for a moment, then went on in tremulous tones, +"Well, he went to college and he won distinction. The men of his +college were proud of him; great things were prophesied. There was a +scholarship for which my brother was competing. No one doubted that +he would win it. But he had a rival—a rival who was also an enemy. +Circumstances had occurred to create between them the bitterest +feeling. On the day of the examination, my brother discovered that this +man had taken an unfair advantage of him. He charged him with it. There +were angry words. My brother was always hot-tempered. In their quarrel, +he suddenly struck his opponent. The blow would not have been serious, +but the man chanced to be standing at the head of a flight of stone +steps. The shock sent him staggering back, and he fell to the bottom of +the flight. When they raised him, his neck was broken." + +"Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Enid. "How could your brother bear it?" + +"He could not bear it," said Miss Strutt slowly. "He was out of health; +for weeks he had been over-working, studying both day and night in +pursuit of his object. His nervous system had been strained beyond +endurance; this shock was more than his brain could support. Ah, how +can I tell it! His reason gave way. He has lived on; he is living +still—if it can be called life—that awful existence of the insane!" + +Enid grew pale as she listened. She could say nothing in response. +Words seemed empty and vapid beside the revelation of so great a +sorrow. Her own troubles seemed to melt into nothingness in comparison +with the sorrow and disappointment of this sister's heart. Perhaps Miss +Strutt felt that hers was the silence of sympathy, for she went on +presently— + +"You will not wonder that the grief broke my mother's heart. She lived +little more than a year afterwards—then I was left alone in the world. +People perhaps wonder why I live as I do; why I work so hard and spend +so little. You will understand. I have but one thing to live for—the +duty of seeing that my poor brother is well cared for in his sad +situation. I have a friend, a medical man, in Scotland, who visits him +from time to time, and sends me news of his condition. If there were +any improvement, any possibility of his knowing me, I should go to him +at once; but the news is always the same. It is a hopeless case." + +Enid took Miss Strutt's hand and kissed it reverently. + +"Oh, what sorrows you have known!" she said. "It makes me ashamed to +think that I have been pitying myself, fancying myself unhappy, when I +really do not know what trouble is." + +"If it has made you feel so, I am not sorry that I have told you," said +Miss Strutt. + +"No, do not be sorry; I am glad you told me. Only I feel so sorry for +you. How you have borne it, I cannot tell." + +"I have been helped to bear it," said Miss Strutt quietly. "Have you +seen Guido Reni's Crucifixion in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina? +No! Then you must go and look at it some day, and perhaps the picture +will give its message to your heart. Many a time when my heart has been +oppressed by the mournful mystery of life, and ready to rebel beneath +its heavy load, the sight of Guido's picture has given me calmness +and strength. That sublime sorrow of the Highest One, that cross so +patiently borne for the sake of others, gives us the only solution of +life's perplexities, for it shows us that all the pain of the world, +and our own individual share of the same, is meant to be for good, and +not for evil. Do not look so grieved for me, child! This sorrow of mine +has shared my life for so many years that it has grown to be like part +of myself, and I have long ceased to fret under it." + +Enid quitted Miss Strutt's room in a humbler frame of mind. She had had +her lesson, and it was one which she never forgot. + +She went upstairs prepared to confess to Maud how she regretted her +hasty action and angry words. Maud received the confession lightly +enough, and dismissed the matter as of slight consequence. Enid's heart +was sore as she thought of the violets she had painted so lovingly. She +felt a strong reluctance to begin anything fresh, and for some days +could only work in a very desultory fashion. + + +Maud meanwhile was projecting a great work. The weather now was sunny +and warm—as February days often are in Rome—and Maud made her pretty +model pose for her in the garden beside an old moss-grown fountain with +a background of orange trees laden with ripening fruit. It was a good +idea, but unfortunately Miss Marian's ambition was in advance of her +skill. + +Maud was painting in the garden one afternoon and Enid was drawing in +the studio, when Julius Dakin made his appearance there. + +Enid, who felt some embarrassment on seeing him, at once explained +where her cousin might be found; but he seemed in no hurry to seek Miss +Marian. + +"Where are the violets? Are they finished?" he asked, as he glanced +over her shoulder, and saw that she was drawing from a plaster cast. + +"They are finished as much as they ever will be," said Enid, colouring +vividly. "I have done for them." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Simply that the violets are no more. In other words, I tore the +painting up." + +"What! Do I hear aright? You tore up my beautiful violets—the painting +that I had come to look on as my own! What could make you do such a +thing?" + +Enid said nothing. + +"It was too bad of you," he continued reproachfully. "You were doing +them exquisitely. You excel in painting flowers—Herr Schmitz was saying +so the other day; I wish you could have heard how he spoke of your +work." + +"It is well I did not," said Enid; "I am conceited enough already, and +Herr Schmitz knows that too well to give me much praise." + +"Indeed, you are mistaken. I only wish I could inspire you with a +little conceit. If you had a quarter of your cousin's self-confidence, +you would do." + +"Allow me to remind you, Mr. Dakin, that comparisons are odious," said +Enid. + +Julius laughed, but said determinedly, "Now I really must understand +this matter. What induced you to tear up that painting?" + +Enid was silent. + +"Were you disgusted with your work? Did you conceive of it as a +failure?" + +"No, it was not that." + +"Was it anything your cousin said that induced you to do it? Did she +disparage your work?" + +"Really, Mr. Dakin, I must beg you to spare me these questions," said +Enid. "What does it matter why I did it? The thing is done, and cannot +be undone." + +"That is the worst of it, unhappily. I assure you I do not feel +inclined to take my loss philosophically. I can never forgive Miss +Marian if her words have put you out of humour with your work. It is +absurd her presuming to criticise you, who have fifty times her talent. +You must see yourself how faulty her work is. She cannot even draw. You +must be conscious of your own superior power. You have real talent; but +Miss Marian! It is ridiculous for her to call herself an artist!" + +"Mr. Dakin, I wish you would not speak so," said Enid uneasily. "You +forget that Maud is my cousin." + +"No, I do not; but forgive me if I have said anything to pain you. You +know I promised that I would always tell you exactly what I thought. +I have a great respect for Miss Marian; she is a charming young lady; +but—" he shrugged his shoulders impressively—"as an artist she is a +joke." + +"I shall be seriously offended with you, Mr. Dakin, if you talk in that +way," said Enid. + +"Excuse me; I did not mean to annoy you, though really I think you +deserve a punishment for tearing up my painting. Now tell me honestly, +did you not paint those violets for me?" + +"I should never have sold them to you," said Enid. + +"Then you would have given them to me," he said, in a low, insinuating +tone. + +Enid coloured, but said nothing. + +"That would have made me only too happy," said he. "And now the picture +is destroyed, do you wonder I am vexed? I suppose I may not ask you to +paint something else for me?" + +"You may ask me if you like," said Enid, "but I shall certainly refuse +to make any promise. I feel as if I should never paint flowers again. +But now let us go and find Maud." + +"Yes," said Julius laughingly; "we will go and see the great artist of +the future." + +Enid gave him a reproachful glance. + +But when they reached the garden, Maud was no longer there. Her easel +and painting materials were still beneath the trees; but model and +artist had both departed. + +Julius Dakin excused himself from staying longer, and Enid went back +alone to the studio. + +Attached to the studio was a tiny room communicating with it, and +having also a door into the passage. The girls used it as a sort of +dressing-room, and also as a place of consignment for various useful +but inelegant articles belonging to their studio. + +As she re-entered the studio, Enid heard a sound which seemed to her +like a sob, proceeding from this little room. Hastily drawing aside the +curtain which screened it, she saw that the door was open, and Maud +stood within. Undoubtedly too the sob had come from Maud, for her eyes +were wet with tears as she started and faced her cousin angrily. + +"Why, Maud," exclaimed Enid, startled, "what is the matter! Have you +been here long?" + +"Oh no, not long," said Maud, in a tone of indescribable bitterness; +"only since Julius Dakin arrived. I saw him pass when I was in the +garden, and I came in. I thought he might want to see me; but I need +not have troubled, since it was evidently you he came to see." + +Enid was dismayed. If Maud had been in the ante-room with the door +open during Julius Dakin's visit, she had heard all he said, and his +unflattering comments on her as an artist must have stung her sorely. + +"Oh, Maud, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed in her distress. "You should +not have stayed here." + +"Indeed, it was well I did so," said Maud proudly. "I had an +opportunity of testing the sincerity of those who profess to be my +friends. Don't speak to me, Enid," she added with sudden passion, as +Enid tried to say a word; "don't make any excuses for him. I shall hate +you if you do! I do not want to hate you, but you will drive me to it +if you do not take care!" + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A SERIOUS ADVENTURE + +ENID was greatly distressed. The more she pondered what had occurred +at the studio that afternoon, the more she regretted it. She could not +feel that she was to blame in the matter; but neither was she anxious +to justify herself. The bitter words Maud had addressed to her did not +rankle in her heart. She could forgive them, because she imagined she +had discerned the true source of the warm feeling they betrayed. In her +passionate outbreak, Maud had unconsciously revealed to her cousin the +secret of her heart. + +If anyone deserved blame, it was Julius Dakin. He had not behaved well. +He, who prided himself on his taste and tact, had certainly committed a +breach of decorum in speaking to Enid of her cousin in the way that he +had. Enid felt vexed with him for causing so much trouble. Indeed, she +believed herself to be seriously angry with him. She was very severe +on him in her own mind. He was just one of those handsome, agreeable, +useless men, who were for ever making mischief in the world. She took +credit for understanding him, and was convinced that if any girl were +proof against his fascinations, it was Enid Mildmay. + +But for Maud, Enid was truly grieved. It must be remembered that Enid +was of a romantic disposition. She loved poetry, and had also a keen +appetite for fiction, though she was guided by fine taste in the +selection of it. But her sound common-sense and the influence of her +active, healthy home life, had prevented her from making herself the +heroine of her day-dreams. She had perhaps as little vanity as a girl +can have. She cherished no illusions regarding herself. But she had her +thoughts concerning that love which is the crown of a woman's life. +She hid them deep within her heart, but they were such as she need not +have been ashamed to avow. The love of which Enid conceived was the +love which the poets have made their theme. She had no idea of the low, +petty, selfish feelings which dare to claim the holy name of love. +She was at the age when girls of imaginative tendency dote on Mrs. +Browning's poems, believe all loves to be eternal, and assert, in the +words of their favourite poet, that— + + ". . . Those never loved, + Who dream that they loved once." + +Therefore, when Enid detected in Maud's jealous anger the signs of an +attachment to Julius Dakin, she at once imagined the feeling to be the +deepest and strongest of its kind. Her sister Alice would have been +moved to laughter by such a discovery, and would probably have made +it her endeavour to shame Maud out of her nonsense, as she would have +deemed it. And perhaps in five out of ten of such cases, those who +laugh are justified in doing so. + +But Enid took the matter seriously, and felt profound pity for her +cousin. She had previsions of sorrow and heart-break for Maud, since +she was convinced that Julius had no such attachment to her, nor was +ever likely to have. And perhaps, in spite of her pity for her cousin, +Enid did not regret that this was so. It did not seem to her that +Julius Dakin and Maud were exactly suited to each other. + +Enid had spoken truly when she said that her cousin had great +self-control. This was evinced on the present occasion. After those few +hot words, Maud regained her usual self-possession, and relapsed into +cold, proud dignity. No other allusion was made to the occurrence of +the afternoon. Things went on as before, save that Maud's manner made +Enid aware of a chilling distance between them. + +It was so in the days that followed. Maud was calm and courteous, but +the frigidity of her manner never thawed. Enid was made to feel herself +a culprit, though at the same time nothing was said or done that she +could find just cause to resent. She thought at last that she could +welcome the hottest discussion as an exchange for Maud's icy reserve. + + +One morning the two girls were at work in the studio. Neither had +spoken for the space of about half an hour, for they had fallen into +the way of saying little more than was absolutely necessary to each +other. Enid was absorbed in her work; but Maud was dissatisfied with +her task, or not industriously inclined. She would haven been glad to +throw down her brushes and indulge in a chat with her cousin, could she +have done so without sacrificing her dignity. She would have welcomed +any visitor; but it was not an hour at which anyone was likely to call. + +So when a knock was heard, Maud did not suppose for a moment that there +was anyone more interesting than a model at the door. + +"Come in," she said indifferently. + +But when the door was slowly opened, and the person outside cautiously +presented himself, she uttered a cry which astonished Enid. + +Her cousin looked up and saw a tall young man in the doorway. Brown and +sturdy, with a frank, glad smile on his face and a sparkle in his keen +grey eyes, he was unmistakably an Englishman. + +"Sidney!" exclaimed Maud in her surprise. "Sidney Althorp, it is never +you!" + +"I have reason to believe it is," he replied with mock gravity, as he +came forward and took her hand. + +"Well, I declare!" said Maud. "Of all astonishing things! Who would +have thought of seeing you in Rome?" + +"Not you, evidently. And yet you have always represented Rome to me as +a city to which everyone went, and which I was therefore bound to visit +some day." + +"But I never really thought you would come, for you never like to do +the things which other people do." + +"Indeed! Perhaps you are mistaken. At any rate, this is an exception." + +"Yes; but the idea of your coming in this way, without informing me of +your intention! And you know I hate surprises." + +"Do you? I am sorry I have displeased you by appearing so unexpectedly. +Shall I take myself off?" + +"Nonsense! You know how glad I am to see you. Do sit down till I get +accustomed to your presence. I still feel as if it could not really be +you." + +Mr. Althorp glanced at Enid ere taking the seat to which Maud motioned +him, and Maud was reminded of her duty to her cousin. + +"Enid," she said, "you have often heard me speak of Mr. Althorp. My +cousin, Miss Mildmay—Mr. Althorp." + +The young man advanced and shook hands with Enid, giving her at the +same time one of his earnest, searching glances. She was struck with +the kind, honest look of his eyes. + +"So this is the Studio Mariano," he said the next minute, calmly +surveying the room. "At last I see it. Can you wonder that when its +fame reached me, I could not rest till I beheld it?" + +"Don't be satirical, Sidney," said Maud. "And how did you know it was +called the Studio Mariano? Oh, I suppose papa told you. I dare say he +has read to you all my letters." + +"I have occasionally had the pleasure of listening to extracts from +them." + +"Of course. And how is my father?" + +"He was very well when I left, I am glad to say," replied Mr. Althorp. + +"That is right. I hope he has ceased to lament the waywardness of his +daughter." + +"I don't know about that. He has seemed more cheerful of late. He has +been going a good deal to your aunt's house, I believe." + +"Oh, I am glad to hear that. I knew he would soon cease to miss me, and +take a reasonable view of my absence." + +"You must not suppose that your father has ceased to long for your +return," said Sidney Althorp. "Indeed, he hopes you will not remain +away much longer. He has suggested that you and Miss Mildmay should +return under my protection in three weeks' time." + +A shadow fell on Maud's face. + +"That is out of the question," she said quickly. "Three weeks' time, +indeed! It is impossible. I have engagements that will keep me far +longer in Rome." + +Sidney Althorp said nothing. + +"You have not yet explained how you come to be here," said Maud, +anxious to change the subject. "When did you arrive in Rome?" + +"I arrived this morning, having left London on Monday night. There +was business in Paris which Mr. Marian wished me to undertake, and he +kindly thought that could spare me for a week or two, and suggested +that I should come on here. I believe he thought that the next best +thing to coming himself to fetch you was to send me. I need not say how +gladly I fell in with the suggestion." + +"Of course," said Maud; "but you may tell my father that I mean to stay +in Rome till he comes himself to fetch me. So you have travelled here +straight from Paris. How tired you must be!" + +"On the contrary, I feel quite fresh, and eager to see all I can of +Rome. I hope you are willing to be my 'cicerone.'" + +"I shall be delighted. There is nothing I should enjoy more," said Maud +gleefully. "Where shall I take you first?" + +"Wherever you please; you shall choose." + +"Very well; I know what you will like," said Maud. "I suppose, Enid, +you will not care to leave your work?" + +This was not the way in which Maud would formerly have invited Enid +to join her. Enid felt the coldness of her words. She would probably +on any invitation have hesitated to make a third; but as it was, she +felt it impossible to do otherwise than assent to Maud's negative +proposition. + +So Maud and her friend went out together, and Enid was left to pursue +her work alone. She was perhaps disposed to be a little envious of +her cousin. It seemed such a delightful thing for Maud to have this +friend arrive, bringing her news of her father. Enid felt how she would +welcome anyone who came to her with tidings from her home. + +She worked steadily all the forenoon, and returned again to the studio +after luncheon; but the afternoon light was not good, the quiet of +the room became oppressive, and soon Enid could no longer resist her +longing to be in the open air. She laid aside her work and went out. + +It was a grey, chilly, cheerless day. On such a day, so rare in Italy, +Rome does not look like itself. Enid felt the difference the lack of +sunshine made as she passed through various narrow winding streets +to the Forum. Colourless and forsaken looked the old ruins—there was +scarcely a tourist even to be seen. Enid passed on along the Forum and +beneath the Arch of Titus. + +She wandered on without any purpose till she reached the Colosseum. +Then she remembered that she had not yet explored the Cœlian Hill. +Turning to the right, she crossed a plantation of trees, at present +leafless, and then ascended by a steep paved lane, spanned by +picturesque arches of brickwork buttressing the old buildings on the +left, to the Church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. + +A pretty dark-eyed child in picturesque rags was coming down the hill, +and at the sight of the young lady, she pulled a woebegone face, and, +approaching her, began to beg persistently. Enid had no patience with +the Roman beggars, and never paid heed to their stories; but the +appearance of this girl interested her. She could not believe her +piteous tale, but it occurred to her that Maud might like to employ +the child as a model, so she asked her if she would be willing to pose +as one, gave her the number of the studio in the Via Sistina, and told +her to come there on the following day. The girl seemed pleased, and +readily promised to come. + +Enid went on, and soon gained the piazza above, where she paused to +admire the beauty of the tall campanile, which she had often observed +from a distance. Then a notice caught her eye, attached to a small door +in the side of the church: + +"Enquire at the sacristy for the house of the Holy Saints, S. Giovanni +and S. Paolo." + +At once there came to Enid's recollection, a talk she had had with a +gentleman whom she met at one of Mrs. Dakin's receptions, respecting +this same house. He was an intelligent man, interested in antiquities, +and he had told her about an ancient dwelling which had been discovered +beneath this church, and charged her not to miss seeing it ere she +quitted Rome. + +It was supposed, he said, to be the very house in which St. John and +St. Paul had lived. These saints were officers in the household of the +Christian Princess Constantia, daughter of the Emperor Constantine, who +honoured them and reposed in them great trust. When Julian the Apostate +came to the throne, he attempted to persuade them to sacrifice to +idols; but they were ready to die rather than abjure their faith in the +one living God. + +"Our lives are at the disposal of the emperor," they said, "but our +souls and our faith belong to our God." + +And Julian, fearing the influence of a public martyrdom, had them +privately beheaded in their own house. This church, which bore their +names, had been erected to mark the spot where they were martyred. + +Remembering all this, Enid felt a desire to see the interior of the +church, and, if possible, the house which had recently been excavated +beneath it. She crossed the piazza to the door, lifted the heavy +curtain, and entered. As she glanced around, she experienced a sense of +disappointment. The interior of the old church was not so interesting +as she had been led to expect. Bare whitewashed walls met her view, +broken by old pillars, which appeared at some period to have undergone +painting. Above the pillars were plain glass windows, which flooded the +church with light, and rendered painfully clear its lack of beauty. +Towards the centre of the nave, there was in the pavement a square +stone enclosed within iron railings. + +A monk who was standing near it explained to Enid that this was the +very stone on which the saints were beheaded. Their bodies, he said, +reposed in a porphyry urn beneath the high altar. Several monks wearing +the black habit of the Passionists, whose convent adjoins the church, +were moving about within the building. Some of them were busy hanging +crimson and tinsel drapery about the tribune, in preparation apparently +for a "festa." The colour thus imparted was grateful to the eye, +affording a welcome relief to the prevailing whitewash. + +Enid went forward to observe the frescoes by Pomerancio. She made an +enquiry of an aged monk, who seemed to be superintending the movements +of the others, concerning the subterranean house. He told her rather +snappishly that she could not see it that afternoon; it was too cold +and damp. Enid did not, however, at once give up the idea of seeing it. +She lingered awhile, for other visitors were entering the church, and +she hoped there might yet be an opportunity of descending. + +A party of travellers, evidently German, were making the tour of the +church. Enid followed them as they entered a chapel on the right of +the nave. This was a modern addition, the splendid adornments of which +afforded a striking contrast to the plainness of the old church. +Pillars of alabaster supported the gilded ceiling, above which opened +a painted dome. Here there was no lack of colour. Polished marbles of +various kinds adorned the walls, the floor was inlaid with the same, +the high altar was richly gilded, and above it, as above each of the +side altars, was a picture of imposing proportions, though Enid found +none of them satisfactory from an artistic point of view. + +Gazing up at the pictures, Enid slowly approached the altar, before +which the party of tourists, accompanied by one of the monks, were +grouped. As they moved a little to make way for her, Enid started, and +experienced a strange thrill as she came thus unexpectedly upon the +object they were examining with curious interest. + +Below the altar was a large glass case, in which lay, in an attitude of +calm repose, the embalmed body of an aged monk, wearing the habit of +the Passionists. The waxen hue of death was unmistakable, but the still +face wore an expression of heavenly peace. The pale hand still held the +breviary it had used in life. There was something very impressive in +this sudden vision of the sublime repose and majesty of death. + +"Whose body is this?" Enid enquired of the young monk who was in +attendance on the party. + +"St. Paul's," he answered; then seeing that his words conveyed to her +no information, he added reverently, "It is that of our founder, St. +Paul of the Cross." + +Then he went to the back of the altar, touched a spring, and the gilded +cover of the sarcophagus slid again into its place, hiding the form of +the dead man. + +Enid lingered for a few moments in the chapel which been raised to the +memory of this notable saint, who died in 1776. Then she followed in +the direction taken by the others. She saw them in a little chapel at +the end of the right aisle; but ere she reached it, they were already +descending the flight of steps which led down from this spot to the +subterranean house. Enid hastened to join the party. A monk was just +closing behind them the door at the head of the stairs; but at Enid's +approach, he opened it, thrust a small piece of lighted candle into her +hand, and bade her follow the others. + +Enid kept pretty much in the rear of the party, whose noisy comments +on what they saw were not to her taste. She could not hear the account +given by the monk who led them, of each room they entered; but she +had heard enough of the nature of the discoveries to draw her own +conclusions respecting each. She preferred to follow at her own pace, +and look about her in a leisurely manner. There was much of interest +to be seen. The old solid walls, with frescoes still perfectly +distinguishable remaining in places, the oratory of the saints with +a model of the primitive altar used there in the second century, the +beautiful "amphorae," and various relics which had been discovered in +the excavations, had all a fascination for Enid. She lingered for some +minutes in a chamber which she heard the monk call the "cantina," and +which contained a collection of old water-vessels and cups, with the +exquisite forms of which she was charmed. + +Suddenly she became aware that there was danger in thus lingering. +The others had all passed on. She hurried her steps, that she might +overtake them; but she mistook the way in the narrow passages, and came +back again to the room from which she had started. She turned again, +when a sound reached her ear which filled her with dismay. It was a +heavy, jarring noise, as of a door closing above. Surely they had not +closed the door upon her, and left her alone in these gloomy vaults! + +Enid was frightened, but she would not give way to fear. She set out +again, observing more carefully the way she took, and presently reached +the flight of steps leading up into the church. It was as she had +feared. + +The iron door at the top was securely fastened. Still Enid would +not give way to alarm. She rapped with her knuckles on the door, +she shouted at the top of her voice, but without result. Her voice +resounded hollowly through the vaults, but it was powerless to +penetrate to the church above, and the solid thickness of the door +defied all her efforts. + +Was it possible they had forgotten she was there? Then a worse doubt +struck dread to her heart. Had they ever been aware of her presence? +She had kept behind them all; she had spoken to none of the party. She +felt almost sure that the old monk had not cast a glance at her. + +It was a terrible situation. Gradually the full horror of it dawned +upon her mind. It was purely by accident that she had come to this +church. No one would think of seeking her there. No one would have the +least clue to her whereabouts, for it was quite aimlessly that she had +wandered out this afternoon. If she could not succeed in making herself +heard, she would have to spend the night where she was. Who could say +how many hours it would be ere anyone opened that door? Brave as she +was, Enid shuddered at the thought. She glanced at the bit of candle in +her hand. Already it was almost burned out. + +At this moment, the swelling notes of an organ reached her ears, +accompanied after a few moments by the sound of voices chanting in +unison. The monks were singing their vespers in the church above. Again +Enid put forth her utmost efforts, hammering on the door, shouting, +screaming, but with no better success than before. The thick iron door, +the solid roof above, deadened effectually the greatest noise she could +produce. + +She was well-nigh in despair, but it occurred to her that ere the light +went out, and left her helpless in the darkness, it would be well to +explore the chambers again, and see if she could discover any other +outlet. So she went through them once more, looking about her with +the utmost care. She did discover a small wooden door at the end of +a passage, which apparently had been used by the workmen during the +excavations. But it was locked, and she knocked long on it without +receiving any response. Apparently on this side, the old house was +quite remote from human life. + +By this time, the candle had burned almost to her fingers, and she +hastily made her way back to the steps ere its light went out. Placing +the last morsel on the step beside her, she sat down and watched it +expire. + +As with one last flicker its light vanished, Enid's courage died also. +The darkness which settled on her seemed like the darkness of the +grave. She covered her face with her hands to shut out the blackness +which looked so terrible, and burst into hopeless tears. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SEARCHING FOR THE LOST + +MAUD did not return to her "pension" till the evening. She had +thoroughly enjoyed going about Rome with Sidney Althorp. It was so +long since she had seen him that his society was very welcome, and she +listened eagerly to all he could tell her of her circle of acquaintance +at home. Nothing occurred to mar the pleasure of their meeting, and +she came back in excellent spirits. She thought more kindly of Enid as +she climbed the long flight of stairs to their dwelling. She hoped her +cousin had not been dull; but she had no time to seek her then, for it +wanted but ten minutes to the dinner hour. + +Maud made her toilette with all haste, but by the time she reached the +dining-room, most of the company were already seated at the table. +She saw to her surprise that Enid's place was empty. She sat down, +expecting at every moment that Enid would appear; but she did not come. + +"Is your cousin not coming to dinner this evening, Miss Marian?" +enquired Signora Grassi. + +"I cannot tell," said Maud. "We have not been together this afternoon. +I came in late, and did not go to her room. If you will excuse me, I +will go there now. I fear she is not well." + +"Do not trouble to go—I will send a servant," said Signora Grassi. + +She did so, and the servant returned saying that Miss Mildmay was not +in her room. + +Maud was astonished, but hardly alarmed. It occurred to her that Enid +had perhaps gone to Mrs. Dakin's that afternoon, and been persuaded +to stay and dine there. Still, it was hardly like Enid to do such a +thing without sending word to her cousin. She was generally careful to +avoid causing inconvenience or anxiety to others. But Maud reflected, +with a twinge of conscience, that of late she had shown so little +consideration for Enid that her cousin might well think that she was +not likely to be disturbed by her absence for a few hours. + +Signora Grassi looked rather uneasy. "Miss Mildmay is perhaps with +friends," she suggested. "You know, I suppose, where she was going this +afternoon?" + +"Indeed, I have not an idea," said Maud. "She had formed no plans when +I left her." + +"This was Mrs. Dakin's afternoon for being 'At home,'" said Miss Guy. +"Your cousin very likely went there, and Mr. Julius Dakin has induced +her to remain awhile. She will return presently under his protection." + +Maud glanced at the speaker with an air of disdain. "You may be right +as to Miss Mildmay's being at Mrs. Dakin's," she said haughtily. "It +seems to me a probable solution of the mystery. I feel no alarm about +my cousin. She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself." + +"Ah, but there are such dangers in Rome!" said Signora Grassi, with a +little nervous shiver. "And Miss Mildmay is so courageous. She seems +not to know what fear is. I have always been afraid lest she should +venture too much. However, it is all right if she is at Mrs. Dakin's." + +This was by no means certain, however. Maud ate her dinner with +apparent equanimity; but in truth she was feeling uneasy, and her +uneasiness increased as the evening wore on. As soon as dinner was +over, she hastened to Enid's room, half hoping to find her there. The +deserted look of the room was depressing. An examination of Enid's +wardrobe showed her that Enid had gone out in the ordinary dress she +wore in the studio. She would probably have made some change in her +attire, had she contemplated a visit to Mrs. Dakin. But if not at Mrs. +Dakin's, where was Enid? She had no intimate friends in Rome. She never +paid visits except in the company of her cousin. Maud could think of no +place where she was likely to be found. + +With fears that could no longer be suppressed, she hurried to consult +with Signora Grassi. She met that lady in the corridor, and a glance +showed that she shared her anxiety. + +"My dear," said the signora, "I cannot rest for thinking of your +cousin. Suppose she should not be at Mrs. Dakin's! Do you not think we +should send there to enquire?" + +"Yes, yes," said Maud breathlessly; "we should have sent there before. +There is no time to be lost. I will go myself at once!" + +She hastily put on her hat, drew a large fur-lined cloak over her +evening dress, and ran down the stairs. At the corner of the street, +one of the small open carriages so common in Rome was standing. Maud +sprang into it, and told the man to drive with all speed to Mr. Dakin's +house. The horse was tired, and the man's utmost efforts could not +induce it to proceed rapidly. The distance to be traversed was not +great, but it seemed to Maud in her impatience as if they would never +reach the house. At last, the door was gained, and she learned from the +porter to her relief that the Dakins were at home. + +As she insisted that she must see Mrs. Dakin at once, the servant +ushered her, just as she was, into the drawing-room. A lady and +gentleman from Washington had been dining with Mr. and Mrs. Dakin, and +two young German tourists were also present. + +Miss Amory was seated at the piano, singing, with imperfect mastery of +the language, an Italian song when Maud entered; Julius stood at her +side. The singer turned as the door opened, and catching sight of Miss +Marian's white agitated face, at once ceased singing, whilst Julius +hurried forward with an air of alarm. For a few moments, Maud could not +speak. She gazed round the room half dazed, and was conscious only that +Enid was not there. + +"My dear Miss Marian, what is the matter?" It was Mrs. Dakin's voice +that roused her. + +"Oh, I hoped I should find Enid here," said Maud, in a tone of deep +distress. "Can you give me any news of her? She has not been home since +the afternoon, and we cannot tell where she is." + +"What! You do not mean that Miss Mildmay is lost, and in Rome of all +places!" exclaimed Miss Amory, in her high voice. + +This was more than Maud could bear. She sank on a chair, feeling faint +and heart-sick, and fearing to lose all control of herself. + +Julius Dakin came to her side. It might have been observed that he had +grown very pale; but he spoke in a calm, decided tone. + +"Do not distress yourself, Miss Marian; there may be no real cause for +alarm. Just tell me what you know of your cousin's movements, and I +will see what can be done." + +His cool, quiet manner restored Maud's courage. + +"The worst of it is that I know nothing," she said. "A friend from +London, a gentleman who is in my father's business, called to see me +this morning; he persuaded me to go out with him to show him Rome. I +left Enid busy with her painting. I did not get home till close upon +dinner-time, and not till I reached the table did I learn that Enid had +not come in, and no one knew where she was. I at once imagined that she +must be here." + +"She has not been to see me," said Mrs. Dakin. "But have you no idea of +what she intended to do?" + +"Not the least," said Maud. "I do not think she had formed any plans +for to-day." + +"You have enquired at the studio, of course?" said Julius. + +"No, I have not—I never thought of doing so," said Maud. + +"Why, my dear, I should have enquired there the first thing," said Mrs. +Dakin. "Something may have occurred to detain her there. She may even +have met with an accident." + +"In that case, some one surely would have let me know," replied Maud. + +"One would think so," said Julius. "But there is Miss Strutt—she may be +able to tell you something about your cousin." + +"To be sure. How foolish of me not to have thought of her before!" said +Maud rising. "I will go to her at once." + +"I will come with you," said Julius. + +And they started without delay. + +In a few minutes, they were at the house in the Via Sistina. The door +was closed, and Julius had some difficulty in arresting the attention +of the porter, who evidently did not expect visitors so late in the +evening. He came grumbling to the door; but his manner changed when he +saw the gentleman and lady. He could give no information concerning +Enid, but his wife, who came out at the sound of voices, said that the +young lady had brought her the key of the studio about half-past three, +and had gone away. She had not noticed in what direction she turned. + +"Then we shall not find her here," said Maud in a disappointed tone to +Julius as they went up the stairs. + +"Don't give up hope," he said. "We may gain some clue to her +whereabouts." But his own heart was heavy with dread. + +They opened the door of the studio and went in. All was in perfect +order—Enid had put things carefully away ere she left the studio. The +pictures and delicate fabrics were covered in preparation for the +morning's sweeping. It suddenly struck Maud how much she owed to Enid's +thoughtfulness: how many little services Enid constantly rendered her +which she took almost as a matter of course! But now, as she looked +about her, and saw everywhere the trace of Enid's careful hands, the +sight struck such pain to her heart as we feel when we look on the last +work wrought for us by some loving one whom death has removed from our +side. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, overcome by the anguish of the thought. "How good +Enid has always been to me! And I—I have been a perfect wretch to her! +How can I bear it if any harm has come to her!" + +"Don't—don't give way," said Julius, but his own voice was hoarse. "Let +us go to Miss Strutt—she may be able to tell us something." + +So they went down the cold dark staircase, and found their way, by the +light of the wax taper Julius carried, to Miss Strutt's door. The house +seemed empty and deserted, for few of the artists who worked there by +day remained at their studios after daylight had gone. In the midst of +her distress, Maud wondered how Miss Strutt could bear to live there +all alone. + +Although it was barely nine o'clock, Miss Strutt was already preparing +for rest. At any other time, Maud would have been intensely amused at +the droll figure she presented as she looked out of the door, attired +in an old tartan dressing-gown, with her head tied up in a flowered +silk handkerchief. She betrayed some discomposure at finding herself +confronted by a gentleman when thus "déshabillée;" but no sooner did +she hear the news he brought, than she forgot herself entirely in +concern for Enid. + +"I know nothing of her—I have not seen her all day!" she exclaimed. "Oh +dear, dear me! Our little Enid lost! What a lamentable thing! Wait a +minute whilst I dress myself, and I will come with you to seek her." + +"Can you make any suggestion as to where we should seek her?" asked +Julius, not thinking that Miss Strutt's presence was likely to be of +much assistance. + +"How can I? She said nothing to me of any intention, unless—She may +possibly have gone to the Villa Mattei. It is open on Thursdays, and I +know she meant to go there some day." + +"That is an idea," said Julius. "We will make enquiries in that +direction." + +"Let us go there at once," said Maud, turning to accompany him. + +But he gently checked her. + +"Not you," he said. "I am going to ask Miss Strutt to take care of you." + +"Indeed, I do not need to be taken care of," said Maud, indignantly. "I +am going to look for Enid; I will not rest till I find her!" + +"It is impossible that you should wander abroad this cold night," he +replied firmly. Then he added in a gentler, somewhat tremulous tone, +"Do you not see that the search may last all night? You will be brave +and strong, I hope. You will return to the 'pension' with Miss Strutt, +if she will accompany you, and await what tidings we may bring. Who +knows? Your cousin may return there very soon. Whenever she comes, she +will want you." + +Maud was obliged to yield to him, though she yielded reluctantly. + +It seemed to Miss Strutt as she observed him that the young man's +character had undergone a transformation. She could see that he was +intensely anxious about Enid—that the thought of her peril gave him +the utmost pain, and she was not surprised. But the self-control, +firmness, and decision he displayed did surprise her. She had not given +him credit for such qualities. She had imagined him to be simply a +frivolous, pleasure-loving, rather conceited young man. She now saw +that there was more in him than she had supposed. + +"Enquire of the guards at the Forum and the Colosseum," she said to him +ere he left. "Enid goes so often to those places that they must know +her well." + +Julius, impatient of every moment of inaction, departed in haste. If he +had been ignorant before of the nature of the feeling which drew him +to Enid Mildmay, this night was destined to reveal it to him. His mind +was in an agony as he drove towards the Colosseum. He knew too well +the hidden dangers of Rome into which a young and inexperienced girl +might fall. All kinds of terrible possibilities suggested themselves +to his imagination, and he blamed himself for never having given +Enid the least warning that it was possible to be too adventurous in +exploring Rome. Yet in truth the idea of peril in connexion with Enid's +wanderings had never before suggested itself to him. Enid's courage and +simplicity had seemed a sufficient safeguard for her. And what right +had he to interfere with her movements? But he vowed within himself +that if he found her safe and well, he would not rest till he had won +the right to watch over her in future. It should not be his fault if +she strayed into danger again. + +The moon was slowly rising behind the Colosseum, and beginning to +illumine with its rays the grand old walls. Already there were +carriages standing at the entrance, and the sound of voices and +laughter from within announced that a party of American tourists were +"doing" the Colosseum by moonlight. Julius alighted and made enquiries +at the entrance, but could learn nothing of Enid there. + +He passed on towards the Cœlian on foot, making enquiry of everyone +he met of whom it appeared in the least probable that he might obtain +tidings of Enid. By doing so, he attracted considerable attention. +The news that a young English lady was lost passed rapidly from one +to another. Curiosity or the hope of gain drew people after him. To +his annoyance, he found himself attended by a crowd of persons, who +harassed him with questions and suggestions that were mostly wide of +the mark. + +Crossing the open ground at the right of the Colosseum, Julius paused +at the end of one of the paths and looked about him in perplexity. +Which way should he take? A little below to the right was the church of +S. Gregorio. To the left the steep arched lane ascended to the church +of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. Was it likely she had entered either of these +churches? Should he visit them, or hurry on without delay to the Villa +Mattei, and ask if she had been there that afternoon? + +As he hesitated, someone pulled his sleeve. He looked round, and saw +a small girl by his side. Her face was half hidden by the black hair +which hung over it, but her large dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight. + +"The signor seeks a Signorina Inglese?" + +"Yes, yes," said Julius eagerly. + +"'Una piccola, brunetta con aria forte?'" ("A little one, of brown +complexion and healthy appearance?") + +"Yes, yes." + +"The signorina is an artist; she has a studio in the Via Sistina?" + +"Yes, it is she!" exclaimed Julius, unable to restrain his impatience. +"Tell me at once what you know about her." + +"The signorina passed up here this afternoon," replied the girl, +pointing up the lane. "She spoke to me, and gave me a soldo, and said +that if I would come to her studio to-morrow, she would perhaps employ +me as a model." + +"Yes, yes; and where did she go? Did you watch her?" + +"She went into the church," said the girl. + +"And afterwards—did you see her come out?" + +"No, no; I did not see her again, though I waited long outside the +church, for I had forgotten the number of her studio, and I wanted to +ask her." + +Julius stayed to hear no more. With rapid strides, he ascended the +steep road. The church was closed at this hour. With a vigorous hand, +Julius pulled the bell at the door of the adjoining monastery. His loud +summons brought the porter in haste to the door. He was about to demur +to admitting a visitor so late in the evening, but ere he could get the +words out, Julius had pushed him aside and entered. + +"I must speak with one of the reverend brethren at once," he said. +"Here—take my card, and say that my business brooks of no delay." + +The man, overawed by his imperious manner, obeyed instantly. And the +effect of his message or his name—for the banker was a person of +importance in Roman society, although not of the Roman Church—was such +that in a few moments a monk appeared. He was one who had been in the +church and had spoken with Enid that afternoon. + +"Yes, yes," he said, as Julius hastily explained what brought him. +"I remember the young lady you describe. She was in the church this +afternoon." + +"And when did she leave it?" + +"That I cannot say," he replied. "The last I saw of her was when she +descended to the subterranean house in the company of Brother Tomaso. +I know that she did so, for I lighted her candle and saw her down the +stairs." + +"Where is Brother Tomaso?" demanded Julius Dakin. + +"I do not know; I will seek him instantly," said the monk, impressed by +Mr. Dakin's manner, and catching the contagion of his excitement. + +He disappeared, and in a few minutes returned accompanied by a monk +much older than himself, who walked with a feeble step. + +And now a strange thing happened. Neither Julius nor the younger monk +could succeed in recalling Enid to the old man's recollection. He +persisted in saying that no such young lady had formed one of the party +he had conducted through the ancient house. He grew angry with his +young brother when he maintained that he was mistaken, since he himself +had seen the young English lady follow the others. + +"If you saw her descend, perhaps you also saw her come out," he said, +"for I did not. There were but two ladies in the party, and they were +German, and good Catholics, for I saw them take the holy water ere they +quitted the church, and they gave me a franc for our offertory." + +"Is it possible," exclaimed Julius, violently agitated, "that she has +been left behind in those dismal vaults? She may have fallen, or have +fainted. There is no knowing what horrible thing may have happened to +her there." + +"It is impossible!" exclaimed the younger monk. "But calm yourself, +signor. We will descend at once and ascertain if she is there." + +It was with difficulty Julius could control his agitation. The younger +monk lighted a lantern, found the keys, and led the way into the +church. He entered the little chapel, descended the steps, and unlocked +strong iron door. Julius, who followed closely, shook with a nervous +tremor as the door was opened. He advanced with a sensation of dread, +but the next moment a cry of joy escaped him. + +The light held by the monk fell upon the form of Enid seated on a stone +step, her head drooping against an angle of the wall, and her eyes +closed in sleep. + +At the sound of Julius' cry, she moved and opened her eyes: they met +his with a dazed, startled look; then she smiled, and said in a simple, +child-like way— + +"Ah, you have come!—I knew you would come!" + +"Enid, dearest Enid," he said with passionate earnestness, "you can +never know how thankful I am to find you safe at last! To think of your +being shut up in this horrid place!" + +"Hush!" she said faintly, as he helped her to rise. "Do not say +anything about it now." + +She was weak and stiff. He put his arms about her and helped her to +ascend the stairs. The monk hastened to fetch wine; she drank some and +her strength revived. + +"Are you well enough to drive home now?" Julius asked presently. "Your +cousin is in great anxiety about you." + +"Then let us start at once," said Enid. "Indeed I am strong." + +But she was still unable to talk over what had happened, and the drive +passed almost in silence. + +Maud would never forget the relief she experienced when, just as she +was ready to give up all hope, and abandon herself to the most gloomy +forebodings, Julius appeared accompanied by Enid. All the coldness and +constraint that had arisen between the two melted away in the joy of +this reunion. If Enid had ever doubted whether her cousin had any real +affection for her, she was assured of it now. Maud could not do enough +for her. She overwhelmed Enid with loving attentions. + +"Now I have you safe and sound again, I mean to take better care of +you," she said. "You will not be allowed to go wandering off alone any +more, I can tell you." + +She insisted on having her bed placed in Enid's room that she might be +with her during the night. "For if you wake and find yourself alone, +Enid," she said, "you will be fancying yourself back in that dreadful +place." + +Enid was very tired, and glad to lie down, but it was long ere sleep +came to her. The day's adventure had wrought in her an excitement of +mind which would not yield to repose. Nor was Maud's state of mind more +tranquil. When they had been lying down for more than an hour, she +heard Enid moving restlessly on her bed, and spoke to her. + +"You cannot sleep, Enid?" + +"No," said Enid wearily; "I do not feel in the least like sleeping." + +"Nor I," said Maud. "I keep thinking it all over, and imagining all +kinds of things that might have happened." + +"That is not a profitable occupation," said Enid. "It is not like you +to indulge your imagination in that way." + +"No, it is not," said Maud. "But, Enid, you cannot think how miserable +I felt when you were lost. I kept thinking how horrid I had been to you +during this past week. I should never have forgiven myself if any harm +had come to you. And now, will you forgive me?" + +"Of course, if there is anything to forgive," said Enid. "But you +misunderstood me—that was all." + +"I don't know about that," said Maud. "You must not try to find excuses +for me; I know I behaved very badly. But, Enid, do tell me how you +managed to endure being shut up in that dark underground place. If it +had happened to me, I should have gone mad." + +"I felt like that at first," said Enid, tremulously. "The first +half-hour was dreadful. I thought there would be rats and mice, and all +sorts of horrible things in the darkness; and it seemed as if I could +not bear it. I grew cold and sick, and shook from head to with fear. +But then I thought of the martyrs who had suffered in that place so +many years ago. I remembered how they must have lived in constant dread +for long ere they were put to death. I thought how many in those days, +women and young girls even, had found strength to endure the utmost +tortures rather than deny their faith, and my own suffering seemed +slight in comparison. Sooner or later, I felt sure that I should be set +free. I had only to spend a few hours in cold and darkness, that was +all." + +"All!" echoed Maud. "I should think it was enough. Oh, you dear, brave, +heroic Enid!" + +"Indeed, I felt anything but heroic," replied her cousin. "God must +have sent the thoughts that gave me comfort. I thought of home and of +mother. I remembered that in a little time they would be gathered for +family prayers, and I knew they would pray for me. Then I prayed, and I +felt that my prayer was heard. The love of God, in which I have always +believed in a way, became to me then such a blessed reality. I felt +that God was near, and would watch over me. My mind grew more and more +peaceful, till at last, in spite of every discomfort, I fell asleep. I +don't know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes, Julius Dakin +stood beside me, and my trouble was over." + +"Julius was very good and kind," said Maud. "He was ready to do +anything. If you had been his sister, he could not have shown more +anxiety about you." + +To this Enid made no reply. They ceased talking, and presently Maud +fell asleep. But the allusion to Julius Dakin had started Enid on a +fresh train of thought, and one not calculated to lessen her excitement +of mind. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AT THE VILLA MATTEI + +ALTHOUGH she had come so bravely out of her misadventure, Enid felt +the effects of it for some days, and looked pale and languid. She was +embarrassed by finding herself the object of general attention. + +She said, "I realize the kindness which prompts all this fuss, but +still I am growing tired of the subject of my escapade." + +"I don't wonder," said Maud; "but you gave us all a great fright, and +now you must bear the consequences, and expect to be watched over with +extra care." + +Of course Sidney Althorp heard the whole story of how Enid was lost +and found. Maud told him everything the next day with a fullness which +astonished Enid, frankly confessing that she had been as "horrid +as possible" to her cousin during the previous week. Certainly, if +Maud was given to complimenting herself, and at times exhibited an +insupportable egotism, she was also wont, when once convinced of any +fault, to confess it with winning openness. + +Enid wondered a little at the relation Sidney Althorp seemed to hold +towards her cousin. He treated her with a frankness and freedom which +no other friend would have dared to assume. He did not hesitate +to criticise her words and actions, nor did he hide from her any +disapproval he might feel. No one was less inclined to flatter her. +His attitude towards her was almost that of a brother, and yet +instinctively Enid felt that his interest in Maud was not simply of +that nature. + +On the second day after Enid's adventure, Mrs. Dakin called to take +her for a drive. Julius was in the carriage with his mother and Miss +Amory, and he came up to the Studio Mariano to bring the invitation. He +found Sidney Althorp there, who had just called to take Maud out. Maud +introduced the gentlemen to each other. + +"My mother thought that Miss Mildmay ought not to attempt work to-day," +said Julius. "She thinks there is nothing so good as fresh air for one +who has experienced a nervous shock. There will be room for you also in +the carriage, Miss Marian; but I am afraid I cannot offer Mr. Althorp a +place inside. He is welcome to my seat on the box." + +"You are very kind," said that gentleman, "but indeed I must not think +of anything so leisurely as a drive for mere enjoyment. My time in Rome +is limited, unfortunately, and I have to make a serious business of +sight-seeing." + +"Ah, I see! You are 'doing' Rome, as the Americans say," returned +Julius Dakin. "I shall never forget the amazement I experienced when, +one day at the Vatican, a lady came up to me and asked,— + +"'Can you tell me if I have seen the Pantheon?' + +"'Really, madam,' I replied, 'that is a question which you can best +answer yourself.' + +"'But can't you tell me what it's like?' she returned. + +"Whereupon I did my best to describe to her the glories of the +Pantheon. But ere I had got half through my description, she +interrupted me by saying,— + +"'Oh, I guess I've seen that; we've seen a lot of old churches anyway,' +and was off." + +"How absurd!" said Enid laughing. "It always seems to me a shame that +such persons should come to Rome, especially when so many who would +thoroughly appreciate its grand associations are unable to come. We +were so amused the other day to hear a gentleman say to his daughters +that they must look at one of the statues because it was 'starred' in +'Baedeker!'" + +"Yes," said Maud, "and another of the party furnished the information +that everything marked with a star was by Michael Angelo! But please do +not imagine that Mr. Althorp does his sight-seeing in that fashion." + +"Thank you," said Mr. Althorp gravely. "It is kind of you to say that. +I was beginning to feel horribly guilty of being a mere tourist with +a desire to see as much of Rome as is possible in a few days. Now I +will confess that I had planned to see the Baths of Caracalla this +afternoon, and also the Catacombs of S. Callixtus. I had hoped to +persuade Miss Marian to accompany me, but I waive my invitation in +favour of yours." + +Enid saw a slight shadow fall on Maud's face; but probably no one else +remarked it, or that she hesitated for a few moments ere she answered +brightly, "No, indeed, you shall not do that. Mrs. Dakin will perhaps +give me the pleasure of driving with her some other afternoon, but +I cannot hope for much more of your company. Besides, who knows but +you may fall into some blunder if I am not at your side to impart +information?" + +"It is possible to be misled by one's guide," said Althorp gravely, +though with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "But of course you are +always accurately informed." + +"How mean of you to insinuate the contrary!" cried Maud. "I have a +great mind to say that I will not go with you after all." + +But she did go. Enid left her preparing for the excursion, and went +down to the carriage with Julius Dakin. It was the first time she had +seen either Mrs. Dakin or Miss Amory since her eventful experience, and +they were eager to hear all about it from her own lips. + +They began to question her, but Julius interposed to spare her the +trouble of replying to their questions. It was really clever, the +brief, terse way in which he replied to their queries, and presently +contrived to divert them from the subject. + +Enid was grateful for the kindness which discerned that the +recollection was painful to her, and wished to prevent her from +dwelling on it. But it hardly seemed as if the kindness had its reward. +It might have been observed that Enid never addressed Julius during the +drive. She took part in the general conversation, and showed no lack +of animation; but she was careful to look at everything and everybody +except the gentleman who sat opposite to her. + +Not once could Julius succeed in arresting her glance. But he was +amused rather than disturbed at being thus baulked. His nature was far +too buoyant for his hopes to be quickly dashed. He did not think it +strange that Enid should be a little shy of him now. It was easy to +interpret that shyness in a way agreeable to his feelings. + +They passed out of the city by the Porta Pia, close to which a number +of faded wreaths hanging on the wall mark the spot where the breach was +made through which the Italian troops entered Rome on September 20, +1870. + +After a while they crossed the famous Anio, down which, according to +the legend, floated the cradle bearing the babes Romulus and Remus, +by the picturesque battlemented bridge known as the Ponte Nomentano. +Beyond rose a hill which Julius informed them was the Mons Sacer of +historic interest. + +"Well, what's that?" asked Miss Amory. + +"The hill to which the Plebs retired after their revolt in B.C. 549, +and where Agrippa delivered his famous apologue to them. Do you not +remember?" + +"No, I do not," she replied; "and for goodness' sake, don't expect me +to remember things that happened so long ago as that. It is as much as +I can do to remember what belongs to my own century." + +At the brow of the hill, Julius checked the coachman, and proposed that +they should alight and climb a hillock on the left which commanded a +fine view. Mrs. Dakin elected to remain in the carriage, and Miss Amory +was disposed to keep her company; but Enid would not allow that. + +"Do come," she said, taking her hand; "you must not be lazy. You really +ought to see this view." + +Miss Amory laughed and yielded. She cared little about the view, but +she was good-natured, and it was enough that Enid wished her to come. + +"I shall spoil my boots," she said in a distressed tone, looking +anxiously at her dainty little feet as they scrambled up the rough bank. + +They had gained a grassy ridge, shaded by grand old pines, and +overlooking the vast Campagna, which stretched away to right and +left—not as a flat plain, but breaking into soft billowy undulations of +greyish green, with here and there an old farmhouse appearing in the +distance, or a mediæval tower surrounded by pine trees. On the opposite +side of the road by which they had come rose a picturesque castle with +battlemented tower and a "loggia" on the roof. Beyond to the right lay +the Alban Hills, their lower slopes now bathed in a soft blue mist, but +the sunlight on the snow above; whilst rising behind them, distinctly +visible in the clear atmosphere, was a chain of snowy peaks—the distant +Apennines. To the left stretched a magnificent mountain wall, the +Sabine range, every peak and curve clearly outlined against the blue +sky, whilst below the snow the hill-sides showed a lovely play of light +and shadow changing in hue from deep blue to reddish purple. + +The scene exhibited in perfection that richness of colour peculiar to +Italian scenery which it is almost impossible for painters to render +truly. To complete the picture there was in the immediate foreground +a flock of sheep, near which were grouped several picturesque-looking +peasants of the Campagna in their sheepskin garments. + +"I call this quite idyllic," said Julius, pointing to the group. "Do +you not feel inspired to paint a picture, Miss Mildmay?" + +"Indeed, I have been thinking how much I should like to come here to +paint some day," replied Enid. "That castle and those old pines, with +the Alban Hills beyond, would make a good sketch." + +"They would. You would make something charming of it, I am sure. But +remember, you are not to think of coming here alone. You must allow me +to accompany you as your guardian. We cannot let you stray into danger +again." + +Enid coloured. + +"I shall regret my unlucky accident more than ever," she said quickly, +"if my movements are for ever to be restrained by a recollection of it. +It is too absurd to talk as if there were danger everywhere. Maud was +actually trying to persuade me that I ought not to go alone to sketch +at the Villa Mattei to-morrow, so public as that is on a Thursday +afternoon!" + +"She is right; you cannot be too careful," he said gravely. "I hope you +will not think of going there alone." + +He spoke with a tone of authority which disturbed Enid's equanimity. +She wished she had not mentioned the Villa Mattei. + +"Well, I wouldn't come out to a lonely place like this by myself for +a king's ransom," observed Miss Amory. "I'm going back to Mrs. Dakin. +I guess she's tired of sitting there in the carriage by herself. +But don't let me hurry you two. Stay and go into raptures over the +mountains as long as you please." + +But Enid turned at once and followed closely in her steps. If Julius +had hoped to gain a word with her alone, he was disappointed. In a +few minutes, they were in the carriage, from which they did not again +alight till they reached home. + +Maud returned a little later than her cousin, and when they met, it was +evident that something had occurred to put her out of humour. + +"I wish I had gone with you," she said discontentedly; "it would have +been so much pleasanter to drive in Mrs. Dakin's easy carriage than to +tramp about ruins with a tiresome man." + +"A tiresome man!" repeated Enid in astonishment. "You found Mr. Althorp +tiresome!" + +"Indeed I did. He was in one of his most provoking moods. He wanted to +persuade me to go home next month—talked to me about its being my duty +to do so, and altogether made himself as disagreeable as possible. At +last, I fairly quarrelled with him." + +"That was a pity," said Enid. + +"Well, yes, it was," said Maud, rather regretfully; "but really it +was too bad of him. He told me that if I did not go home and do a +daughter's duty by my father, I should regret it in days to come. He +abuses the privilege of an old friend, and I will not endure it." + +"But why should he say that?" asked Enid. "Is your father in any +special need of you just now?" + +"Of course not. Sidney just says it to annoy me, I believe. He loves to +pose as my mentor. He made me as cross as possible." + +"It is unfortunate you should quarrel with him just as he is going +away," observed Enid. "You will be sorry when he is gone." + +"No, I shall not," said Maud; "and as for quarrelling with him, it is +after all impossible to have a real good quarrel with Sidney. That is +the provoking part of it. He will not take offence. No matter what I +say, his face wears the same calm, imperturbable expression. You will +see he will be just as amiable to me to-morrow as if I had behaved like +an angel to him to-day." + + +And it was so. Mr. Althorp's manner was as friendly as possible when he +appeared the next day. No one could have supposed that he had anything +to resent. He asked the girls to come out with him, and it was arranged +that they should go together to the Villa Mattei, and that Enid should +be left there to begin her sketch whilst Maud and Mr. Althorp went on +to visit some other places of interest. + +It was a bright warm February day. On such a day it was delightful +to pass along the shady secluded paths between tall hedges of box, +which gave to the warm air its subtle perfume, with here and there a +broken-nosed statue or a block of stone bearing a fine relief—relics +of the old Roman villa which once stood on this spot, and over the +ruins of which the present uninteresting modern mansion has been +raised. Already there were many tokens of spring. Large pink-tipped +daisies studded the rank grass, the sweet scent of violets betrayed +their presence in the borders, roses even were in bud, and the orange +trees growing on a sunny terrace beneath a sheltering wall were bowing +beneath a weight of golden fruit. + +They passed down an avenue of huge ilexes, with knotted branches +interlacing overhead and a thickness of foliage which afforded a grand +depth of shade, and gained a little stone temple commanding a fine +view of the Alban Hills, the old walls of the Baths of Caracalla, the +picturesque brown arches of the ancient aqueduct, and the Campagna +stretching far away marked by many a tomb till it melted in the pale +blue of the sky. + +Then they descended to the lower walk. Here springing from beneath the +wall was a picturesque old fountain, fringed with maidenhair fern, +dripping into a still green pool, about which grew luxuriantly the +large graceful leaves of the acanthus. This was said to be the true +Fountain of Egeria, where Numa Pompilius held mysterious intercourse +with the nymph. Enid had her doubts about its identification, but the +romantic beauty of the old fountain pleased her fancy, and she had set +her heart upon making a sketch of it. + +As soon as she had fairly settled to her work, Maud and Mr. Althorp +left her, promising to call at the villa for her on their return about +five o'clock. + +Enid had been working quietly for about a quarter of an hour when the +sound of a step made her raise her head. Julius Dakin stood beside her. + +"So you have carried out your intention," he said quietly, "and you +have come alone. I was afraid you meant to do so." + +"I did not come alone," said Enid. "Maud and Mr. Althorp came with me. +Did you not meet them?" + +He shook his head. "It is all the same," he remarked rather vaguely, +"since you are remaining here alone." + +Enid coloured. "I prefer to be alone," she said. "I cannot paint so +well when anyone is by me." + +"Does that mean that you wish me to retire?" he asked. + +"I do not wish to hurry you, of course," said Enid laughingly; "but you +do not suppose that I can paint with you looking over my shoulder all +the time?" + +"Will you give me that painting when it is finished?" + +"I make no rash promises," said Enid. "At its present rate of progress, +it does not seem likely ever to get finished." + +"But you know you owe me a painting?" + +"Do I?" said Enid. "I don't know how you make that true." + +"Have you forgotten that you wantonly destroyed the painting you were +doing for me? There—I will not, revive a painful subject. But you will +let me have this? As it is now?" + +"You know I do not mean that." + +"Then please let me have a chance of finishing it. I must see what I +make of it before I think of giving it to anyone. Come, I am sure you +ought not to be wasting your time at the villa this afternoon." + +"I am not wasting my time; duty brought me here this afternoon." + +"Really!" Enid looked up at him with a laughing glance of surprise; but +something in the glance that met hers made her eyes drop suddenly. She +busied herself with her paint-box. + +"Well, I suppose I must take your hint," said Julies. "I will not +disturb you farther." + +He walked away without bidding her good-bye. Enid tried to give her +mind to her painting, but it was difficult. Her hands had grown +unsteady; she was vexed to find that she could not pursue her work as +calmly as before Julius Dakin appeared. But she persevered, though she +was ill-pleased with the result of her efforts. Seeing no more of him, +she concluded that he had gone away, and worked on with an easier mind. + +At last she paused, and sat back on her stool surveying her work. The +light was changing rapidly; it was impossible to do more to-day. Her +eyes wandered to the distant prospect. Shadows were stealing over the +mountains, the old red-brown ruins glowed in the sunset light. Enid +thought of the contrast between the mighty enduring mountains and the +ruined desolate works of man, which yet were so grand in their way—so +full of pathos and of beauty. Suddenly she started at a light touch. + +Someone had lifted the fur cape which lay beside her and placed it on +her shoulders. It was Julius Dakin. + +Enid started up greatly discomposed. Her tone was almost one of +annoyance as she said, "How you startled me! I had no idea you were +still here." + +"I am sorry I startled you," he said. "I have not been far from you all +the time. I have been watching you from above. Now I have come to warn +you that it is growing damp and chill, and you must not sit here any +longer." + +"I had no intention of doing so," said Enid brusquely. "You need not +have troubled. I know how to take care of myself." + +The words were ungracious. She was ashamed of them as she uttered them. + +"Of course you do," he said gently. There was a pause, and then he +added, "Enid, let us understand each other. I cannot help thinking that +you do understand me; but let me tell you that your well-being is more +to me than anything else in the world, and I would guard you from all +harm for ever if I could." + +Enid paused in the work of gathering together her painting materials. +Her face had grown very white. She did not say a word. + +"Enid," he said again, his voice now scarcely above a whisper, "you +know what I mean. I love you: I want you to promise that some day you +will be my wife." + +"It is impossible," she replied, in quick, hurried tones. + +"Impossible?" + +"Yes, it can never, never be." + +"You cannot love me?" + +Enid made no reply; but he thought he read in the agitated face the +confirmation of his fear. + +"I might have known," he said, much moved. "You think me unworthy, and +indeed I am not worthy. You see in me a selfish, useless, conceited +fellow, who has never done anything worth doing in all his life, and +who never will." + +"Don't say that," responded Enid tremulously; "you will make something +of your life yet." + +"With your help, I might do anything," he said quickly. "Enid, won't +you give me a little hope? I could—I 'would' make something good of my +life if I had you beside me. You don't know what influence a woman may +exert over the man who loves her." + +"You must do it without me," she said, in a low unsteady voice. "You +can if you like. You do not really need me. There are so many who care +for you." + +"As if that made any difference," he replied almost scornfully. + +Then as she made a quick gesture as if to stay his words, he asked +gravely— + +"Is it so indeed? Do you mean me to understand that it can never be?" + +"It can never be," she repeated. + +He said nothing more, but silently helped her to put her things +together. + +"I will go to the gate now," said Enid nervously. "Maud said that she +would call for me at five o'clock." + +"It is that now," he returned, looking at his watch. He took her +camp-stool and drawing-board, and they ascended the path to the higher +garden. + +Enid shivered as they passed into the gloom beneath the avenue of +ilexes. There seemed something ominous in the sudden change from bright +sunlight to deep shadow. Was it typical of the days before her? As they +emerged from the trees, she saw a carriage drive up to the gates, in +which were Maud and Mr. Althorp. + +Julius saw it too, and drew back into the shade. + +"Will you excuse me if I do not go further with you?" he asked. + +Then she looked up and saw the trouble written on his face. She had +never thought to see him look so. Her heart was moved within her. She +could not speak, and they shook hands in silence. Then she went on in +blind haste towards the gate, and he turned back alone. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +AN UNLOOKED-FOR HONOUR + +"WHATEVER is the matter with you, Enid? You do nothing but sigh this +afternoon." + +"Did I sigh?" asked Enid, the colour suddenly rising in her face. "I +suppose it was because I was thinking of Adela." + +"You have heard nothing of her since she went away?" + +"Nothing whatever; and she promised she would write to me if she could. +It is a shame of them not to let her write." + +"Oh, as for that, I suppose she is little better than a prisoner in +that convent. They will keep her there till she yields to her brother's +will." + +"Poor Adela! I hope she will not do that." + +"Why? She could hardly be more unhappy than she is now." + +"I think she would be more unhappy," said Enid with energy, "for +she would lose self-respect. Whatever she suffers now, she has the +satisfaction of knowing that she is true to the one she loves." + +"What a romantic little soul you are, Enid!" said her cousin, laughing. +"No man may hope to marry you unless he win your heart." + +"I shall never marry," said Enid. + +"How decidedly you say it!" returned her cousin. "But you are right. +You and I are married to Art. We must not think of forsaking that. +But washing your brushes already! Are you not going to paint any more +to-day?" + +"No," said Enid, "my head aches—I think I will take a walk. I will go +to the shop in the Campo Marzio, and see if they have the paper we +ordered." + +"Oh, do!—That's a good idea," said Maud readily. "I am wanting that +paper so much." + +Since Enid parted from Julius Dakin at the Villa Mattei, two days +before, something seemed gone from her life. She felt no interest +in her painting. She could not give her thoughts to it; they dwelt +persistently upon all that had passed beside the world-famous Fountain +of Egeria. Memory repeated every word that had been uttered. She could +not banish from her mind the recollection of Julius Dakin's face as she +had last beheld it. It was with her continually. + +And all the while, she was nervously anxious to conceal from her cousin +her preoccupation. She would not for the world that Maud should know +anything of what had passed between her and Julius Dakin. The thought +of it was very bitter. When she recalled his face, so full of trouble, +she could not be sure that she had acted rightly. She hardly understood +the impulse which had led her to put from her so decidedly his love. +And yet when she thought of Maud, and of all that had gone before, she +said to herself that if it were to come over again, she would do the +same. + +It was true that she had been thinking of Adela when her cousin +spoke to her, for with her own unrest there had come to her a new +comprehension of what Adela must be suffering, and her heart had gone +out to her friend with a fuller sympathy than it had been possible for +her to feel before. + +"Enid!" Maud called after her cousin as she was leaving the studio. "I +think of going to Mrs. Dakin's about five o'clock. Will you be back in +time to go with me?" + +"I do not know; but I do not care to go to Mrs. Dakin's to-day." + +"Oh, very well," said Maud carelessly, and Enid went on her way. + +She had done her errand and was returning home, when, passing the old +church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, she saw that the door was open, and +the thought of Guido Reni's grand altar-piece drew her within. The +church was empty save for a boy, who started up as she entered, and +hurried forward to unveil the painting. It was a bright afternoon, and +the light was good. + +Enid stood long gazing at the picture. It was not the first time she +had seen it; but she saw it now as she had not seen it before. + +The power of Guido's picture lies in its simplicity. No accessories are +introduced; no other form is there to divert for an instant the gaze of +the beholder from the Sublime Sufferer. Only the cross is seen standing +forth from a wild, stormy sky, and stretched on it in patient suffering +the dying Son of Man. The pathos of that form is beyond description. +As one gazes on it, one receives a vivid conception of the loneliness +of Christ. We look till the pallid suffering lips seem to move, and we +fancy that there escapes them the plaintive cry,— + +"My God! My God! why hast Thou forsaken Me?" + +It is a picture that the most thoughtless can hardly look upon without +being moved to reflection. Surely, as far as painter could ever hope to +succeed, Guido has succeeded in depicting the Crucifixion. Yet whilst +it is touched by his work, the Christian heart feels that it presents +but a faint image of the truth, and that the sublime reality defies +portrayal. + +The picture spoke to Enid as it had spoken to Miss Strutt. Not that +the message was the same, for each human life is distinct, and has its +hidden experiences, which differ from those of any other. + +"In your passage through this life remember the sufferings of Jesus +Christ," said Michael Angelo. + +In every phase of life it is good to remember Him but especially in our +sorrows is the remembrance helpful. Perhaps that is why our lives are +so chequered with shadow. It is so easy to forget, and live only for +oneself when life glides joyously on, and everything is to our mind. + +Ere Enid left the church, she had found strength to accept patiently +the cross in her present lot. She saw that it might be well to +have one's wishes thwarted, since the life that seeks only its own +happiness, even if that happiness be of an exalted kind, misses its +true end. + +Soon after Enid reached home, Maud came to her room. She still wore her +visiting dress. + +"You have soon come back from Mrs. Dakin's," said Enid. + +"Yes, I did not care to stay long. It was very stupid there this +afternoon." + +Enid made no remark. She felt sure that Maud had something to tell her, +and she waited for it. + +"What do you think Julius Dakin has done, Enid?" + +"You must tell me," said Enid, smiling rather nervously; "it is of no +use trying to guess." + +"He has gone to London on business; he started last night. Did you ever +hear of such a thing?" + +"Yes, I have heard of such things," said Enid, conscious that she was +changing colour. "The claims of business are inexorable." + +"Oh, of course I know that. But Julius to go on business! It is absurd! +'Business connected with the bank,' Mrs. Dakin said. But she did not +deceive me. I am sure it is only an excuse." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"Need you ask? Was Julius Dakin ever known to do anything he did not +want to do? Of course he has some motive for going off in that way." + +Enid was silent. + +"It is strange that he never said a word about it when last we saw him. +I could have declared that he had not the least intention of going +away." + +"There was no occasion to think of doing so then, perhaps." suggested +Enid. + +"Oh, I do not believe in this pretence of business. I call it +exceedingly rude of him to go off in that way without bidding us +good-bye. When I see him again, I shall let him know what I think of +his conduct." + +"I do not think he meant to be rude," said Enid. + +"Oh, don't make excuses for him. I am disgusted with Julius Dakin," +said Maud, impatiently. "It is very tiresome. Now he is gone, and +Sidney Althorp too, we shall have no one to do anything for us." + +"Now is the time to show we can take care of ourselves, and are not +dependent on the services of others," said Enid. + +Maud shrugged her shoulders. Apparently the idea of independence was +not now agreeable to her. + + +The next morning, Enid received a note informing her that the little +picture she had sent in for the "Belli Arti" Exhibition had been +accepted by the committee, and awarded a mark of distinction. She +had a letter also from Herr Schmitz, conveying his congratulations. +With it was enclosed a formal invitation to a "soirée," to be held in +connection with the opening of the Exhibition. + +Enid was naturally much pleased at her success; but her pleasure was +dashed as she saw the crestfallen air with which Maud received the +news. Her pictures too were hung, but they had received no mark of +distinction! + +"I am sure I am very pleased; I congratulate you, Enid," Maud said, in +rather a forced manner. "But of course this is Herr Schmitz's doing. It +is good to have a friend on the Hanging Committee." + +The blood rushed into Enid's face. Maud had dealt a sore blow to her +pride. She was deeply mortified, the more so that she felt the words +were unjust, for she was convinced that Herr Schmitz was the last man +to lend himself to anything like favouritism in deciding on the merits +of works of art. Happily, Enid was able to control her indignation, +and received her cousin's comment in absolute silence, which had a +discomfiting effect on Maud, who had felt ashamed of her words as she +uttered them. + +Maud too had received a card of invitation to the artists' "soirée," +but she seemed so annoyed at her cousin's success that Enid half feared +she would refuse to accompany her on this occasion. But the "soirée" +was a special affair of its kind, and Maud had a great desire to be +present, so she stifled her pride for once, and graciously condescended +to go with Enid. + +Herr Schmitz, in his note, had begged Enid to be at the gallery half +an hour before the time named on the card of invitation. Maud grumbled +at having to go so early, declared it was only a "fidget" of the old +painter's, and tried to persuade Enid to ignore his wish. But Enid, who +felt sure that Herr Schmitz had some reason for wishing her to be there +before the time of general assembly, was determined to accede to his +request. + +When the two girls therefore entered the gallery, they found but few +persons there, but these were chiefly members of the Hanging Committee +and artists of celebrity. Maud was elated at finding herself in their +company, nor did she fail to attract their attention. Her tall, willowy +form, clad in simple white, which set off exquisitely the heavy masses +of her superb Titian-golden hair, presented an appearance which could +not fail to please the eye of an artist. + +Those who had the honour of her acquaintance came eagerly to greet her; +for whatever might be their opinion of the merits of her painting, +Miss Marian's artist friends found herself wholly satisfactory. A +gentleman who, a few moments before, had been severely criticising one +of her pictures, and declaring that, had it been painted by anyone save +Miss Marian, it would certainly have been rejected, now felt himself +constrained to offer her some words of congratulation. One and another +artist begged to be presented to her, so that Maud enjoyed a certain +triumph, which perhaps compensated her for the cool reception afforded +to her pictures. + +Meanwhile, Enid, the appearance of whose small, compact figure in +its neat, close-fitting black silk, did not invite attention, had +leisure to look about her. Her eyes sought Herr Schmitz, but failed +to discern him. Presently, however, a door at the further end of the +gallery opened, and Herr Schmitz appeared, conducting two ladies +and a gentleman in military uniform. Enid gave one long stare of +astonishment, and then plucked her cousin by the sleeve. + +"Look, look! Maud," she whispered excitedly; "there is the Queen. Herr +Schmitz is showing the pictures to the Queen!" + +"Never!" ejaculated Maud; but a glance showed her that her cousin was +not mistaken. + +Queen Margherita, smiling, gracious, charming as ever, was advancing +slowly down the long gallery, pausing now before this picture, now +before that, and listening with an air of deep interest to what Herr +Schmitz had to say about them. + +"Well, I declare!" said Maud. "Herr Schmitz is highly honoured, though +I suppose he would not own it for the world, for he is a frightful +democrat." + +"Oh, but I have heard him say that if all kings and queens were like +the King and Queen of Italy, he should think better of them," returned +Enid. + +"Look, look!" Maud interrupted her. "Is not that your picture they are +looking at now? I do believe the Queen is remarking on it." + +"It cannot be," said Enid breathlessly, her heart beating fast at the +mere idea. + +But now the Queen was approaching the place where they stood. People +were drawing together, and preparing to salute her in their best +manner. Herr Schmitz darted a quick glance round. His eyes fell on +Enid, and he advanced rapidly to her side. + +"The Queen wishes me to present you to her," he said. + +He took her hand as he spoke, and ere Enid could recover from her +amazement, or at all realise the situation, she found herself +curtseying low before the sovereign lady, who gave her her hand, saying +graciously, in perfect English, with one of her radiant smiles— + +"Your little picture pleases me very much. You are fond of painting +flowers, are you not?" + +In what words she replied, or how she deported herself, Enid had +afterwards not the faintest idea. + +The Queen expressed some kind wishes for her future success, and then +her eyes rested with an air of interest on Maud. + +Perhaps she too saw something ideal in the girl's style and grace. +She said a few words in a low tone to Herr Schmitz. Miss Marian was +no favourite with the old painter, but he had a generous impulse with +regard to her at that moment. + +"Yes," he said, in answer to the Queen's question, "that lady also is +an aspiring young artist." + +And he signed to Maud to advance, and she too was presented to her +Majesty. + +"There! What do you say now?" Enid asked her cousin, when the Queen had +gone by. "Are you not glad I brought you here so early?" + +"Indeed, I am delighted. I never thought to meet the Queen in so +informal a manner. Did I make a proper curtsey?" + +"Your dignity was perfect. You did not seem in the least discomposed. +As for me, I was trembling all over." + +"You did not show it. After all, Enid, you had the greatest honour. It +was your picture the Queen noticed; she did not look at mine." + +"You cannot know that," said Enid. + +"I do know it, though," said Maud, with a sudden painful perception of +the truth. "It is you who are the artist, not I, Enid. I only play at +Art, whilst you work." + +Happily, the approach of a friend rendered it unnecessary for Enid to +reply to these words. The Queen and her companions had departed, and +the general company was beginning to arrive. But for the girls, the +best part of the evening was over, though they derived a secondary +pleasure from discussing with their acquaintances its grand event. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +VARIOUS THREADS OF ROMANCE + +ON the following afternoon, Enid went to Miss Strutt's studio, for she +knew that her friend, whom she had not seen at the "soirée" on the +previous evening, would be interested in hearing what she could tell +her about it. But Miss Strutt's door was locked. It was evident that +the artist had gone out, though it was earlier than the hour at which +she usually left off work. + +So Enid went back to the Studio Mariano feeling disappointed, for she +had looked forward to a chat with Miss Strutt. + +She had that pleasure, however, on the next day. Miss Strutt welcomed +her warmly, and at once began to express congratulations in playful +fashion. + +"So your picture attracted the royal notice! You were presented to the +Queen! How we are coming on! Really, I almost wonder that after such an +honour you can condescend to visit a poor old maid like me!" + +"Now, Miss Strutt, I will not have that!" cried Enid. "It does not +become you to be satirical. Let me inform you that I came to see you +yesterday afternoon, but you were out. I wanted to tell you the news +myself; but it seems someone has forestalled me." + +"It was Herr Schmitz," said Miss Strutt. "I met him yesterday +afternoon, and he asked eagerly if I had heard of your success. He was +delighted with the honour done to his pupil." + +"I believe I owe it in a great measure to him," replied Enid. "But why +were not you at the 'soirée' last evening? All the other exhibitors +were there!" + +"My dear, need you ask? I thought you knew that I never go into +company." + +"I know you dislike general company," said Enid; "but I thought on such +an occasion as this—" + +"You thought the idea of meeting so many of my fellow artists +ought to attract me? I must confess that their society has little +more attraction for me than that of other people. Do not look so +reproachfully at me, my little Enid. You do not know artists as well +as I do. You do not know what bitterness, jealousy, and petty feelings +of various kinds are hidden under the surface cordiality they maintain +towards each other. You look incredulous, but it is true. Tell me, have +you ever heard a painter warmly praise the work of one of his brethren +of the brush?" + +"Yes—at least I have heard one praise the work of a sister artist," +said Enid, with a smile. "Herr Schmitz speaks most highly of your work." + +The colour rose quickly in the old maid's faded cheek. "Ah, that is +different," she said. "Herr Schmitz and I are friends, and he is very +good to his friends. Besides, I owe much to his advice and teaching, +so that he looks upon me almost as a pupil. And you know he does +not withhold encouragement from his pupils if he sees they are in +earnest. But Herr Schmitz has the character of being most severe in his +criticisms of the work of his fellow artists." + +Enid remembered that Julius Dakin had said the same of him. + +"Oh dear!" she said with a sigh. "How disappointing human nature is! If +ever I fancy I have found a hero, someone immediately shows me he is +not flawless." + +"Do you expect to find a hero without a flaw?" asked Miss Strutt. "But +there! That is always the way with young people like you. It is of no +use to tell them they will not find perfection; they always want those +they love and believe in to be perfect, and are impatient of everything +that mars their ideal conception of them. But as we grow older, we +learn to make allowance for human nature; we see that in every human +life there is much which, as Browning expresses it, the 'world's coarse +thumb and finger' fails to 'plumb,' and we think less of the 'flaws and +warpings' of the stuff, so long as the aim of the life be true, for we +know that God will yet mould it into conformity to His will. The world +has never seen and will never see but one Life absolutely without flaw, +and that was more than human." + +Enid was silent. It caused her some wonder to hear Miss Strutt, +who always shrank from the society of her fellow mortals, speak so +tolerantly of human weaknesses. + +"Well, Enid," said Miss Strutt the next minute, with an abrupt change +of manner, "if I stayed away from the 'soirée,' I was not uninterested +in the pictures. I never attempt to look at pictures in the midst of +a crowd, so I went to the Exhibition early yesterday morning before +anyone was there. I wanted to see how they had hung your little +painting." + +"'My' picture only?" said Enid. "Had you no anxiety with respect to the +hanging of your own?" + +"Well, yes; I will not pretend that I was indifferent to the fate of +my own. But it is generally disappointing to see them. They never look +quite as they did in your own studio." + +"No, that is true," said Enid. + +"However, you cannot complain," said Miss Strutt. "Your picture is +hung in a good position, and looks very well. You are fortunate in its +finding a purchaser at once." + +"A purchaser! What do you mean?" asked Enid in a tone of surprise. + +"Surely you know that your picture is sold?" + +"No, indeed; it is news to me! Are you sure you are not mistaken? Who +told you so?" + +"The secretary. I was looking over the catalogue with him." + +"Do you know who has bought it?" + +"Mr. Julius Dakin." + +Enid's face flushed a deep crimson; but the colour receded as rapidly +as it rose, and left her unusually pale. Miss Strutt, watching her, +wondered at the effect of her words. + +"My dear, it cannot surprise you that Mr. Dakin should buy your +picture." + +"But he has gone away," faltered Enid. + +"Well, what of that? Do you not suppose he could have commissioned +someone to buy the picture for him?" + +"Yes, of course; but—" Enid's face looked strangely troubled. + +Miss Strutt was silent for some minutes, but her mind was busy. She +was a shrewd observer, this quiet little woman, and having a "mind at +leisure from itself," she could read the hearts of others. She had had +various opportunities of observing Enid and Julius Dakin both together +and apart, and she had drawn a certain inference from her observation +of them. But the turn events had recently taken puzzled her. + +"Why has Mr. Julius Dakin gone away so suddenly?" she asked with some +abruptness. + +"He has gone on business," Enid replied, her colour rising again. + +"Yes, yes, on business, of course;" but Miss Strutt's manner showed +that she had little belief in the business. "Enid, have you had +anything to do with his going away? You have not suffered yourself to +be misled by your desire for a flawless hero?" + +"Indeed, indeed—" Enid began to protest, but paused in confusion. + +"There is the making of a hero in Julius Dakin," Miss Strutt went on +without heeding her. "He has been spoiled by too easy a life; but if I +mistake not, there are sterling qualities in his character. You must +forgive me. Enid, if I say what I should not, but I have seen—I cannot +help fancying—" + +"Please don't speak of it," broke in Enid nervously. "I know what you +mean—but you are mistaken—indeed you are mistaken." + +"Am I really mistaken? Was it only a dream that I had when I thought I +saw a great happiness coming to you?" + +"Yes, yes," faltered Enid, in evident distress. "It was just that—a +dream—what you think can never be, never!" + +"I suppose I must take your word for it," said Miss Strutt, looking +perplexed; "but I wish I could be sure that you are acting fairly by +yourself. I wish you could confide in me, Enid, and tell me all that +troubles you." + +"I could not—there is nothing to tell," said Enid in sore +embarrassment. "At least you would not understand." + +"I don't know about that," said Miss Strutt. "Perhaps I understand more +than you think." But she did not try to force the girl's confidence. + +They talked of other things; but there was a kindness, a sympathy in +Miss Strutt's manner towards Enid as long as they remained together, of +which Enid was gratefully conscious. + +"How can you like to spend so much time with that old maid?" Maud asked +rather scornfully, when she returned to the studio. + +"I like to do so because she is such good company," replied Enid with a +smile. + +Maud looked amazed, but said no more. + + +It happened the next day, when Enid was with Herr Schmitz in his +studio, that he began talking about Miss Strutt, with whose pictures in +the Exhibition he was very pleased. + +"She is a good artist and a good woman," he said emphatically. "I +cannot give her higher praise than that." + +"She deserves it," said Enid; "she is truly good. I wish she led a +happier life." + +The old painter turned and looked shrewdly at Enid. "Does she ever +complain?" he asked. + +"Certainly not," said Enid; "you know that is not her way. But I know +she has had great sorrows, and her life seems to me a hard one." + +"Ah! She has told you of her troubles, then?" + +"She has told me about her brother," said Enid, with, some hesitation. +"That seems to me a terrible thing." + +"Ah! It is—it was, a terrible thing," said Herr Schmitz, with feeling. +"I heard all about it from a friend of mine, a Scotch artist, who knew +the Strutts well and was acquainted with all the circumstances of the +case. Did she never tell you the rest of the story?" + +"The rest!" said Enid in surprise. "I don't know what you mean. Her +brother remains the same—there is no hope of his recovery." + +"Oh, I was not thinking of him. Well, it was like her to keep back what +most concerned herself. But there is no harm in my telling you. She +was engaged to be married. The man was a poor creature, quite unworthy +of her; but of course she loved him devotedly. When that terrible +affair happened, and her brother had to be sent away, the man took +fright—thought he must not marry into a family tainted by insanity. She +saw how he felt, and at once released him. That was all; but you will +understand what it meant for her." + +Enid did understand. + +"She could never see that the man was selfish and heartless," continued +Herr Schmitz. "She thought him justified in what he did. And of course, +he married someone else; and she—well, you see what her life is. The +worst of it is, when a woman such as she is gives her heart away, she +gives it once and for ever. It is of no use for any other man to think +how he might care for her." + +A thought darted quickly into Enid's mind. It must be remembered that +she was of a romantic disposition. It occurred to her that Herr Schmitz +was a lonely man; his kindred, if he had any, were far away. Would it +be strange if his heart went out towards the poor little woman who had +known so many sorrows? But Enid was half ashamed of the thought as it +arose, and she would not for the world have confided it to her cousin. +She fancied she could hear how Maud would laugh at the idea of the +rough, bearish old Herr having any tender feeling for the odd little +spinster, whose eccentricities would never fail to excite Maud's sense +of the ridiculous, though she had learned to respect Miss Strutt's +sterling character. + +If Enid's experiences of late had been of a sobering nature, disposing +her to dwell on the disappointments of human life, she was about to see +a brighter aspect of affairs. Clouds may darken our life for awhile, +but they do not last for ever, nor is even the course of true love +destined to be perpetually impeded, as Enid was soon to learn. + + +Three days had passed since the opening of the exhibition of paintings, +and they had been to Enid rather dreary days, when one afternoon, as +she was working alone in the studio, Maud having gone out to pay calls, +there came a tap at the door. + +Enid went to the door expecting nothing more exciting than to see the +porter with a letter or parcel. What was her amazement and delight when +she saw standing on the threshold Adela Ravani, with the prettiest, +brightest, happiest face imaginable! But she had little time to study +the expression of her friend's face, for in a moment Adela had thrown +herself into her arms, and was half smothering her with kisses. + +"Oh, you dear, darling Enid, how glad I am to see you again! And I +thought I never should! Oh, to think of it!—To think of it!" + +"Then they have not made a nun of you, Adela?" said Enid, as soon as +she could speak. + +"A nun! I should think not, indeed! No, no; I am free—free! And yet +Francesco has not made me bend to his will! It seems too wonderful to +be true." + +"Then it has all come right after all. Oh, I 'am' glad! But sit down. +Adela, and tell me about it. I can hardly believe that I really see you +again. I have thought of you so often, and felt so unhappy about you." + +"And I have been unhappy—'so' unhappy. But it is all over now, thank +God! And I am as happy as possible. I know, Enid, that I owe it all to +you, and I must thank you before I say another word." + +"Thank me!" exclaimed Enid in the utmost astonishment. "My dear Adela, +what can I have had to do with it? I knew nothing of your happiness +till I saw you, and I am still quite in the dark as to how it has come +about." + +"That may be; but I know very well that it is for your sake that Mr. +Julius Dakin has exerted himself so much on our behalf. You need not +blush and protest, Enid, for I know it is so." + +"But what has Mr. Julius Dakin done?" + +"He has done everything," said Adela eagerly. "It seems that Signor +Torlono, Lucio's uncle, was in Rome, on business a few weeks ago, and +he dined at the Dakins; and they spoke to him of Lucio—told him how +clever he was, and how highly everyone praised his pictures. They saw +he was interested, although he pretended to be indifferent, and they +tried to work on his feelings. They tried to persuade him to see Lucio, +but there they failed. + +"However, I suppose he went back to Florence rather better disposed +towards his nephew. Mr. Julius Dakin would not let the matter rest. +He kept sending him notices of Lucio's paintings, in newspapers and +journals, you know. + +"Then last week, when Mr. Julius Dakin started for London, he persuaded +Lucio to go with him to Florence, and they stayed there a day. Mr. +Dakin went to see Signor Torlono, who appeared very pleased to see +him. And of course, he introduced the subject of Signor Torlono's +nephew, and talked and talked and talked about Lucio—how good he was, +and how clever, and how affectionate; and then, when Signor Torlono +seemed properly affected, he informed him that his nephew was there at +Florence about to pass the night at an hotel. By that time, the uncle's +hard heart was quite melted, and he sent for Lucio and forgave him, and +he is to be his heir after all; and—and everything has come right, just +like a story-book." + +"And there is no longer any hindrance to your marriage?" + +"No," said Adela, blushing in the prettiest manner. "Only fancy! Mr. +Julius Dakin actually told the old uncle all about me, and made him +quite interested in me too! I don't know how he managed it, but he has +such clever, nice ways, has Mr. Julius Dakin. Do you not think so?" + +"Never mind what I think," said Enid, catching the mischievous gleam in +Adela's eyes. "What does Francesco say to it all?" + +"Oh, he is willing enough now, I can assure you. The heir of Signor +Torlono, the rich banker of Florence, is a grand match for me. And I +need not tell you how pleased mamma is. Lucio says she must live with +us, and I should like it so much; but she will not promise to do so +always." + +"And when is the wedding to be?" + +"Oh, soon—in April, I believe," said Adela, blushing and dimpling in +the most charming way. + +Enid had always greatly admired her friend's beauty, but it seemed to +her that now, radiant as she was with happiness, Adela was more lovely +than ever. + +"Enid, you must not think of leaving Rome till after April. I want you +to be at my wedding." + +"Thank you; I should love dearly to see you married, but my movements +of course depend on Maud. I do not know how long she intends to stay +here; and indeed I think she ought to return home before the end of +April." + +"Oh, do not say that!" cried Adela. + +Adela had been absent from Rome for two months. After such a +separation, it may be imagined that the girls had much to tell each +other. Enid asked many questions concerning Adela's experience in the +lonely convent to which she had been banished. + +Adela said the time had seemed very long. She had been allowed to +receive no letters, and had heard no news of the outer world; but the +good sisters had been very kind to her. It had been a relief when her +brother appeared and took her away; but she had not dared to hope for +any permanent good. + +But when she saw her mother's face, she knew that she had joyful news +for her, and from her she learned how Lucio's prospects had changed, +and that his suit was now accepted. + +Naturally Adela's mind was full of her own happiness, and it was +discussed from every point of view. Yet she was not so absorbed in +herself as to be unobservant of her friend. + +"Enid," she exclaimed, after a while, "you have changed, whilst I have +been away! Are you sure you are well?" + +"Quite well," said Enid decidedly. + +"But you do not look so; you are certainly paler and thinner than you +were. Have you had anything to trouble you?" + +"What could trouble me here in Rome—the most fascinating, delightful +city in the world?" + +"Ah! Then you are still in love with Rome? I suppose you have been +doing too much, for you certainly do not look as you did when I went +away." + +Enid was glad to quit the subject of her looks. + +When at last, after some further talk, Adela took her departure, she +left Enid looking brighter than she had looked for days. She was +delighted that Adela had come back, and delighted with the news she +had brought. It was easy to conceive how it had all come about. Her +imagination dwelt on the picture suggested by Adela's words. She could +see Julius Dakin talking to the old banker; she could hear his very +tones as he gently insinuated, suggested, persuaded in the winning +manner peculiar to him. Yes, Adela was right; he had clever, nice ways. +No one had just such ways as he had. Enid could not wonder that the old +man had been won over by him. + +And Adela had declared that it was for "her"—Enid's—sake that he had +taken such pains to bring about this reconciliation. The thought was +dear to Enid. A voice in her heart echoed back an assurance that it was +even so. For her sake, he had been anxious to succeed, that he might +give her gladness through the happiness of her friend. + +Certainly if Julius Dakin could have seen Enid's face at this hour, he +would have had his reward. The immediate effect of Adela's visit was to +fill Enid's heart for a brief while with a rapture of delight. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +MAUD RECEIVES STARTLING NEWS + +THE weeks passed rapidly by. The cold "tramontana" had ceased to blow, +and spring was advancing with swift strides. The flower vendors in the +Piazza di Spagna offered to the passerby huge bouquets of violets, and +their baskets were gay with the loveliest daffodils, narcissi, and +anemones. Those who preferred to pick flowers for themselves found them +in rich profusion at the rural villas or in some of the greener spots +of the Campagna. + +Now was the time to make excursions to the lovely country places about +Rome. The girls were often invited to join friends who were bound on +such pleasure trips, and they could seldom resist the temptation. +The work in the Studio Mariano flagged in consequence. Indeed, it +came to look rather a deserted place, for what painting the girls did +during the bright warm days was done out of doors. Maud had begun to +sketch some of the old arches on the Palatine Hill; Enid was painting +some flowers in the garden of the Villa Medici. Maud was continually +planning fresh pictures; but, meanwhile, the work she had in hand did +not progress very fast. + +Enid wondered sometimes when her cousin intended to return home. +Enid's letters from home were beginning to convey hints that the +winter was almost over, even in England, so it was to be expected that +she would soon return. But Maud never spoke of their return save as +of an event still distant. She must do this; she must do that. There +were numberless plans to be accomplished ere she could think of going +home. It was evident that Sidney Althorp's persuasions had failed to +influence her, unless, indeed, they had exercised an influence adverse +to his wish, and inclined her to persist in her own way—a result which +Enid, knowing the strength of her cousin's self-will, thought not +improbable. Enid rather wondered at the patience Mr. Marian manifested. +She had heard nothing lately of his making any efforts to hasten his +daughter's return. + +April had begun, when one morning, as the girls were about to start for +the studio, the English letters arrived at their "pension." There were +two for Maud and one for Enid. + +"We had better take them with us and read them at the studio," said +Maud. She ran down the stairs with the letters in her hand. "One from +father and one from Aunt Helen," she said. "I expect they have both +written to urge me to come home. It is wonderful that father has left +me in peace so long. I really must think of returning in a week or two. +Oh dear! I wish the thought of London were not so distasteful!" + +Arrived at the studio, Maud threw herself into a chair and opened her +father's letter. + +Enid sat down also to read hers. It was from her sister Alice—a long, +bright letter, detailing all the little incidents of their home life, +which she knew would not fail to interest Enid. She was soon absorbed +in it. The dear old home seemed so near to her as she read Alice's +words. How she yearned to be back there again! But she would be soon. +Had not Maud but just now said that she must think of returning in a +week or two? As the thought came to Enid, making her heart bound with +delight, she was startled by an exclamation from her cousin. She looked +up. What had happened to Maud? + +She had sprung from her seat, and stood with clenched hands before her +cousin, her face strangely agitated, a spot of deep crimson burning +in each cheek, her eyes aglow with passion. The letter she had been +reading lay on the floor at her feet. + +"Why, Maud," cried Enid, "whatever is the matter?" + +"It is shameful—abominable!" exclaimed Maud, in a tone choked with +passion. "I could never have believed it!" + +"But what?" asked Enid, growing alarmed. "What is it you could not have +believed? Do tell me!" + +"Oh, I feel as if I could not speak of it," said Maud excitedly. "I +could never have thought it possible for father to do such a thing." + +It seemed vain to ask what Mr. Marian had done to cause his daughter +such agitation. Maud was far too excited to explain. Enid waited in +great perplexity, whilst Maud paced to and fro, muttering angrily to +herself. + +At last, she threw herself again into her chair, exclaiming, "It is too +bad of him! I do not deserve such treatment at his hands!" + +"What is it?" Enid again ventured to ask. "Does your father wish you to +go home at once?" + +"I believe he does," replied Maud, with inexpressible scorn in her +tones. "I believe he does express such a wish; but I shall not go. +Nothing shall induce me to go home now." + +Enid looked utterly bewildered. + +"Cannot you understand, Enid?" said Maud impatiently, forgetting that +she had as yet given her cousin no explanation. "My father has written +to tell me that he is about to be married. Do you suppose that I can +any longer regard his house as my home?" + +Enid was startled at the news. It was easy now to understand the +excitement Maud manifested. Enid could realise in a moment all that the +news meant for her proud, high-spirited cousin. She was silent from +very sympathy. + +"Is it not dreadful?" Maud asked, with a quiver in her voice. + +"Perhaps it will not be so bad as you think," said Enid, with some +hesitation. "Perhaps when you know the lady your father is going to +marry, you will like her." + +"But it is as bad as it can be!" exclaimed Maud. "I do know the lady, +and it is impossible I can like her! My father could not have chosen +anyone less congenial to me." + +"Really! How is it you cannot like her?" + +"Oh, how can one explain such things?" exclaimed Maud impatiently. "I +tell you she is thoroughly antipathetic to me. She is a woman without +style or culture or any knowledge of the world—quite a vulgar sort +of person, in fact. I doubt if she can even aspirate her h's. How my +father could think of marrying her, I cannot imagine! I never liked +her, but she was a friend of Aunt Helen." + +"Then surely she must have some good qualities," said Enid. + +"I never saw them. I could not understand the attraction she had for +Aunt Helen. And now my father—Well, he has chosen between her and me, +for I will never live with her." + +"Do not say that," interposed Enid. + +"But I do say it, and I mean it. Do you think I will brook having that +woman set over me? No, indeed! My father must give me an allowance, +and I will live here in Italy. We can go to the mountains for the hot +weather. I will never go back to live with a stepmother." + +Enid felt some dismay at this unexpected prospect of a prolonged stay +in Italy. + +"Don't be in such a hurry to say what you will do and what you will +not," she replied. "You will feel differently perhaps when you have +thought it all over. Did you not have another letter? What does that +say?" + +"It is from Aunt Helen. I know well the kind of letter it is," said +Maud, disdainfully. + +Nevertheless she took up the letter, opened it, and read it, uttering +from time to time sundry scornful exclamations as she did so. + +"It is as I thought," she said, as she threw the letter down. "Aunt +Helen begs me to take a dispassionate view of the case. She hopes +I will consider how lonely my father has been, and how this union +will increase his happiness, while at the same time it will leave me +perfectly free to come and go as I like. As if I were not free before! +Only, of course—" + +Maud checked herself abruptly. A thought had come to her which was too +bitter to pursue. + +"Well, I will be free!" she exclaimed suddenly. "They shall see that +I mean to do exactly as I like. My father actually suggests that I +should come home before the wedding takes place. As if I would do such +a thing! No; I am of age, and I will demand to have an allowance and to +live where I like! Surely you think I am justified in doing so, Enid?" + +Enid's face wore a troubled look. She did not immediately reply. + +"Why do you not speak?" asked her cousin, sharply. + +"Because I cannot feel that you are right," said Enid, gravely. "I know +this is a very painful surprise to you, and it is natural you should +not like it; but your father is your father, and you have a duty to +him." + +"It cannot be my duty to go home. He does not need me now," said Maud. + +"Does he say so?" asked Enid. + +"Of course not. He wants me to go home very soon. He pretends to think +that this change will increase my happiness." + +"Then he will be very hurt if you refuse to go. He has been a good +father to you, Maud—he has indulged you in every way. I think he +deserves that you should consider his wishes." + +"I do not see that. He cannot really care much about me or he would not +think of marrying, for he must know how distasteful the idea would be +to me." + +"But think how lonely he has been! One can really hardly wonder that +this has come about." + +"Don't, Enid!" cried Maud, in a tone of annoyance. "That is as bad as +telling me it is my own fault. Sidney Althorp would say it was. I know +now what he meant when he hinted that if I did not go home soon, I +should live to regret it. But I never thought of anything like this." + +Enid felt that it was useless to say more. It was impossible that Maud +could yet be persuaded to view the situation in any light save that +in which it had at first presented itself to her. Discussion would +only irritate her. So Enid listened quietly to her cousin's passionate +protestations, till gradually Maud's excitement subsided, and she grew +silent, whilst her miserable looks showed that her mind was dwelling +gloomily on the news which had so changed the aspect of her future. + + +The days which followed were trying ones for Enid. Maud regained +command of herself, and did not again express passionate anger with her +father, but it was evident that her mind cherished a sense of bitter +grievance, and she looked so unhappy that Enid felt the utmost pity for +her. Nothing now was said about their returning to England, and Enid +had to write to her parents and sisters that they must not expect to +see her yet. + +How Maud replied to her father's letter Enid never knew. After that +first irrepressible revelation of her feelings with regard to her +father's marriage, she seemed unwilling to talk about it. She even +made a pretence of not caring much, and of devoting herself with +renewed ardour to her art. But it was a sorry pretence. Her work did +not succeed. She would begin a sketch, and then presently tear it up +in disgust, and plan some other picture. Nothing pleased her long. Now +she would go out into the Campagna to paint, and now spend hours in +damp, cold churches making sketches of picturesque old architecture. +It was vain to urge her to be careful of her health. She seemed quite +reckless with regard to herself; and if Enid attempted to utter a +word of warning, it had the effect of driving Maud to commit greater +imprudences. + +"What is the good of making a fuss, Enid?" she would say. "You know +nothing ever hurts me; I am never ill. And if I were, it would not +matter now. I am sure I do not care what becomes of me, and nobody else +cares." + +"That is not true," said her cousin. "I hope you will never lose your +health; but if you were so unfortunate, you would find that you did +care about it." + +"Of course I should not like to be ill," said Maud, impatiently. "I +wish you would not always take everything so literally, Enid. That +is the worst of you; your ideas are always so proper. For my part, +I dislike people who have correct copy-book sentiments for every +occasion." + +"Really! I did not think I was like that," said Enid, laughing. "I am +afraid my mind is not so orderly as a copy-book." + +Enid found herself called upon to exercise much patience, for Maud +grew increasingly irritable, and it was often hard to bear with her +perversity. Enid was not naturally of a patient disposition, so this +experience was good for her. Her heart had its own burdens, which it +could share with no one. She was beginning to long rather wearily to be +at home again with the loved mother who understood her so well, but the +time still seemed distant. + +Meanwhile, she was enjoying the golden sunlight, the blue skies, the +fresh young beauty of the foliage, the wealth of flowers of her first +spring in Rome. Growing familiarity did not diminish the fascination +which the grand old city had for her. Rather the spell grew stronger; +and, whilst her heart turned fondly towards home, Enid could not look +forward to leaving the narrow tortuous streets, the old brown walls, +the solemn ruins, the ancient buildings of Rome, without feeling that +they had grown very dear to her, and that it would be hard to say +"Good-bye" to them. + +Though cross and gloomy when with her cousin only, Maud showed no loss +of spirits when in company. Indeed, her gaiety was quite remarkable, +and her acquaintance found her society more entertaining than ever, +for her conversation was now marked by a daring recklessness of speech +which by many persons is mistaken for cleverness. Miss Amory was still +Mrs. Dakin's guest; but both ladies talked of going to London to pass +the months of May and June. Julius Dakin was still there. The business +which had taken him to England apparently demanded time, for nothing +was said of his returning to Rome. + +"Of course he will stay for the season, now he is there," said Maud +one day to her cousin. "He will enjoy escorting Miss Amory to all the +fashionable entertainments. I dare say she will make quite a sensation +in society. American beauties are all the rage in London now." + +And a shadow fell upon Maud's face. The conception was not agreeable to +her mind. + + +Nothing more had been said about Mr. Marian's wedding. Enid had no +idea when it was to take place. A month passed. The spring was at +its height, and Rome full of visitors, when one morning the post +brought Enid a newspaper from home. As she opened it, she saw that +an announcement in the matrimonial column was scored with red ink. +The name of "Marian" caught her eye. The brief notice published the +fact that Maud's father had been married on the fifteenth of the +month—nearly a week ago. + +Did Maud know? Enid shrank from speaking to her on the subject, and +yet felt that she ought perhaps to show her the notice. After some +hesitation, she placed the newspaper before Maud as she sat writing a +note, and said, as she pointed to the lines— + +"Here is something that concerns you, Maud. But I suppose you are +already aware of it." + +Maud glanced at the announcement, and her face grew white; but she only +said, "Yes. I knew it," and pushed the paper aside. + +She finished her note, rang for the portress to send it to its +destination, and then said to her cousin— + +"I have said that we will go to the Colosseum this evening with Miss +Amory and her friends. I took it for granted that you would go with me. +Was I right?" + +"Yes, I shall like to go," said Enid. "The moonlight was lovely last +night." Then, as she glanced at her cousin's face, she was struck with +its unusual pallor, and added hastily, "But are you sure you are fit to +go, Maud? You do not look well this morning." + +"I am perfectly well," said Maud, coldly. "I wish you would not always +be fancying things about me, Enid." + +She settled herself with a business-like air to her painting, and for +some time the girls worked in silence. But Enid was quietly watching +her cousin, and she saw that her work made little real progress. Every +now and then Maud would sigh or utter an impatient exclamation. At +last, she threw down her brushes. + +"I cannot get on with this," she said. "I will leave it and begin +something else. This room is very close; I shall go into the garden. I +want to make a sketch of the old fountain, with some pigeons settling +on it, if I can persuade them to come." + +"Put some food for them, and they will come." + +"But I want to paint them in the act of drinking, not eating. However, +I suppose I must manage as best I can. I cannot expect them to pose +like human beings." + +"And they are tiresome enough sometimes. Do you remember the trouble we +had with Lorenzo?" + +"Yes, indeed, the little urchin! He was as restless as any pigeon. +Well, I'll go and make a beginning." + +Maud spent the rest of her working hours in the garden. She professed +to be greatly interested in the sketch which she began, but it did not +make much progress. Enid suspected that her cousin preferred to work in +the garden that she might be alone, and under no restraint. The sense +of Enid's presence, and the thought that conversation was expected of +her, might be irksome to her in her present mood. + +It was near sunset, and Maud still lingered in the garden. Enid, having +laid aside her own work, went out to look at her cousin's. The garden, +with its high walls and heavy foliage, was sunless now, and the air +struck chill. + +"Have you finished, Maud?" asked Enid. "It is growing cold and damp; +you should not remain here longer." + +"Oh, Enid, do you see that red light on the wall, and the sunlight +just glinting through those leaves above the fountain? I must get that +effect." + +"But meanwhile you may be catching cold. It is really not safe to sit +here longer." + +"I do not care if I do catch cold!" said Maud, perversely. "I wish you +would not fuss about me so! I shall not come in till I have done what I +want to do!" + +It was vain to remonstrate with her. Enid ran back to the studio and +fetched a shawl, which she threw over Maud's shoulders. Her kindness +was ill-received, for Maud at once shook off the shawl, saying +impatiently— + +"How can I paint with that thing dangling over my arms? I wish you +would leave me alone, Enid." + +So Enid left her alone, and, from sheer perversity, Maud remained in +the garden even after it had grown too dark to paint. She was shivering +when she came in; but Enid, venturing to suggest that she should take +some camphor or quinine, was immediately snubbed. + +"I suppose it is right that a doctor's daughter should believe in +drugs," Maud said; "but I do not approve of dosing myself with them on +every occasion, so please do not expect me to do so." + + +At dinner, it was evident that Maud had no appetite, and she owned to +Signora Grassi that her head ached. But she was not to be persuaded to +give up going to the Colosseum. When they joined their friends, she +shook off every sign of languor, and was one of the gayest of the party +who explored the grand old ruin by moonlight. + +Enid would have been glad to enjoy the solemn beauty of the scene +in quietude. To her the place was sacred ground. She could never +forget that in its vast arena innumerable martyrs had shed their +blood as witnesses to the truth. She was inclined to regret that the +large black cross which was formerly planted in the centre of the +Colosseum no longer stood there to mark the association of the place +with the Christian faith. The mighty walls, the broken arches, the +clearly-defined shadows, the soft mysterious beauty of the moonlight +illumining one half the vast circle, whilst the other was plunged in +gloom, kindled in Enid a rapture that was akin to awe. She wanted to be +silent and to muse upon the past. + +But the spirit of the present generation is not attuned to reverence. +The minds of the others were as far removed from awe as they were +from melancholy. Miss Amory and the young Americans who were her +companions deemed it ridiculous of anyone to pause and reflect upon +the associations of the place. They found only food for merriment in +all they saw. Nothing was sacred from their jests. Their laughter and +occasional screams of pretended terror rang out on the air as they +passed under the old arches and penetrated into the darkest recesses of +the place. + +Accompanied by one of the guards bearing a lantern, they climbed +flight after flight of steps, till they gained the highest platform +of the structure, and could gaze down into the vast arena and enjoy +the exquisite effect of moonlight and shadow. For most of the party +there seemed to be something almost intoxicating in the influence of +the moonlight. No one was in a hurry to depart. They seated themselves +on some of the fragments of rock with which the place was strewn, and +talked and laughed and frolicked, regardless of aught save the pleasure +of the moment—they did, in fact, almost every imprudent thing they +could do. Enid once or twice suggested that they had better be going +home, but no one heeded her words; and Maud, the excitement of whose +mood had been increasing ever since they set out, seemed the most +reckless of the party. + +At last, however, they began to descend. Enid, who was anxious for +Maud's sake that they should not remain longer, moved on quickly, +and was one of the first to reach the ground. Gradually, by twos and +threes, the others joined her, and they were about to set out from +the entrance, when it was discovered that Miss Marian was not in the +party. No one could say where she was. Those who had descended first +supposed that she was with those who had lingered behind, and these +last had imagined that she was on in front. Everyone was amazed at her +disappearance, and most of them were conscious of some alarm. + +At once, one of the gentlemen went back to look for her. The others +meanwhile began to shout her name, hoping thus more speedily to +discover her whereabouts. But their shouts met with no response, and +when the gentleman returned, having made a fruitless search in the +galleries above, there was general consternation. + +"We must go in parties and search every step of the way," said Enid, +tremulously. "She has fainted or fallen, perhaps." + +"Something must certainly have happened to her," said another, +anxiously. + +"On the contrary, nothing has happened to her," said a gay voice, and +Maud stepped quietly into their midst. "What in the world are you all +exciting yourselves about so much?" she asked. + +"Oh, what a shame of you to give us such a fright!" cried Miss Amory. + +"How could you, Maud?" said Enid, reproachfully. + +"I give you a fright! Indeed, you gave it to yourselves. I have done +nothing; I only stayed in one of the arches to look down the outside +wall. I had a great mind to throw myself over, but I did not do it, +purely out of consideration for your feelings." + +"But why did you not answer when we called?" + +"Oh, when I found how you were exciting yourselves, I thought I would +have some fun. You are not a good seeker, Mr. Trelawney, for you passed +so near to me that I could have touched you. I just turned and followed +you down, keeping always in the shadow. Oh, it was such a joke to see +all your faces!" + +It was a joke, however, which Miss Marian had entirely to herself. No +one else thought it funny. A check had been given to the gay spirits +of the party which could not be easily counteracted. Everyone suddenly +became conscious of the lateness of the hour, and anxious to reach home. + +"I feel real mean," said Miss Amory confidentially to Enid, whose arm +she took. "I never was more frightened in my life. My heart is beating +like a steam-engine yet. What could have possessed Miss Marian to act +like that? But she has been rather strange altogether in her manner +lately. I can't make her out." + +Enid too was puzzled with her cousin's bearing that night. She feared +Maud might have taken a chill, and she wanted to doctor her when they +reached home, but as usual Maud refused to submit to "coddling." + + +The next morning, however, when Enid looked into her cousin's room, she +found her still in bed, and it was evident at a glance that she was far +from well. + +"It is nothing," Maud said, moving her head uneasily on the pillow; +"nothing but a headache. I shall be better when I have had a cup of +tea. But I shall not be good for much to-day. You will have to go to +the studio without me." + +"I do not think I will go," said Enid. + +"Indeed, you shall not stay here and waste your time on my account!" +cried Maud. "I hate to have anyone by me when I am feeling out of +sorts. All I want is to be left alone. If you will not go to the +studio, I shall get up." + +So Enid had to leave her. She felt uneasy about her cousin, however, +and ere she went to the studio she walked to the shop of an English +chemist at some little distance, that she might get some medicine +which she hoped would relieve Maud's headache. This shop was near the +railway station, and as Enid was leaving it, an open cab with a lady +and gentleman seated inside, and some luggage on the box by the driver, +passed on its way from the station. + +Enid started as she caught sight of the gentleman's face. It was +strangely familiar, yet for a moment she could not remember where +she had seen it. Then suddenly there was recalled to her the time +when she and her cousin started from London for Rome. This was Maud's +father!—Maud's father, and in Rome with the lady he had made his wife! +Enid stared after the carriage in amazement. Then, as she collected her +wits, she turned and walked as quickly as possible in the direction of +the Via Sistina. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FEVER + +WHEN Enid reached their "pension" in the Via Sistina, she found that +her cousin had risen and was slowly making her toilette. The medicine +which Enid brought was sufficient excuse for her reappearance so soon. +Maud looked so ill and moved so languidly that Enid thought she would +have been better in bed. It was vain to suggest this, however. She went +on dressing, though every now and then she had to pause and fortify +herself with a draught of cold water. + +"Sit down and let me do your hair," said Enid, distressed to see her +cousin's tremulous movements. + +For a wonder Maud yielded. She was generally very particular about the +arrangement of her hair, and preferred to dress it herself; but now she +sank wearily into a chair, and seemed thankful to resign herself into +Enid's hands. + +As she took the brush from her cousin, Enid touched her hand. It was +like a hot coal. + +"How your hand burns!" she said. "You must be feverish. I am sure you +should be careful of yourself." + +"Oh, don't begin to preach caution," said Maud. "I have only a cold; +but this weather is enough to make anyone feverish. Perhaps I have been +foolish to remain so long in Rome. The heat begins to be very trying." + +"There is a fresh breeze this morning," said Enid. "And after all this +is only May, and many English people stay here till June. I saw some +newly-arrived ones driving from the station this morning." + +As she spoke, Enid was gathering Maud's heavy golden hair into a coil. +She could see her cousin's face in the mirror before which she was +seated. Her eyes drooped wearily; her expression was one of suffering. +She showed not the least interest in what Enid was saying. + +Enid feared the effect of the news she had to tell, yet she felt that +it must be told. + +She waited till she had placed the last hairpin, and the coil of rich +red gold crowned Maud's perfectly-shaped head. + +"There—will that do?" she asked, turning her cousin's head with her +hand so that she might catch the full effect in the mirror. + +"Oh yes; anything will do to-day," said Maud indifferently. + +But as she glanced at the reflection in the mirror, she smiled +involuntarily to see in what a becoming style Enid had done her work. + +"Why, Enid, you are improving as a lady's maid," she said. "You have +done my hair quite cunningly, as Miss Amory would say. My hair is my +chief beauty. Did I ever tell you what Sidney Althorp said about it +when he was here?" + +"No, Miss Vanity," said Enid, gaily. "I wonder you have been able to +keep it to yourself so long." + +"He said that, judging from what he had seen both in the galleries at +Florence and in those of Rome, most of the great painters had had the +good taste to paint their Madonnas with hair the colour of mine." + +"Well done, Mr. Althorp!" exclaimed Enid. "I thought you said he never +paid you compliments!" + +"Indeed they are most rare from him," replied Maud. "That is why I +remember this one." + +"Mr. Althorp must be very busy now that your father is away from home," +remarked Enid, striving to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. + +Instantly Maud's face changed. She rose at once from her chair, saying +abruptly, "I do not know about that, I am sure. I suppose, now you +mention it, that my father is from home just now; but I really had not +thought of it." + +"Do you not know where he is?" + +"No, indeed," said Maud, in a manner intended to check Enid from saying +more on the subject. "I neither know nor do I care." + +"Then I can tell you," said Enid, rather nervously. "I saw him here +this morning, Maud—saw him driving from the railway station." + +"What!" exclaimed Maud, in a startled tone. "You saw him—my father—here +in Rome this morning?" + +"Yes, indeed I saw him—not an hour ago. I am sure I am not mistaken." + +"He was not alone?" + +"No; there was a lady with him." + +Maud's foot impatiently struck the ground. "To come here!" she +exclaimed. "It is too bad! But I will not see her! Nothing shall induce +me to see her!" + +"Do not say that, Maud." + +"But I do say it! Do you think I am not strong enough to keep my +resolve?" + +At that moment there was a tap at the door, and a servant entered to +say that there was a gentleman in the "salotto" who wished to see Miss +Marian. + +Maud turned so white that Enid thought she was about to faint. + +"It is my father, Enid," she said tremulously. + +Then hastily calling the servant back, she enquired if the gentleman +were alone. The girl replied in the affirmative. + +"Then I will go to him," said Maud, hurriedly fastening her gown. + +"Are you fit to go?" asked Enid, anxiously. "Had I not better ask him +to come to you here?" + +"By no means. I am not ill, Enid." + +And indeed the colour had now returned to Maud's face. Her eyes were +large and bright with excitement; she held herself erect, as if +suddenly endowed with fresh energy, and with an air of indomitable +pride and determination she went forth to meet her father. + +Enid waited anxiously for her return. She was uneasy as to the result +of the interview, uneasy too respecting her cousin's health, for she +felt sure that she was seriously unwell. + +More than half an hour had passed when Maud's step was heard coming +along the passage. She entered the room with an excited, agitated air, +and stood for a few moments before Enid, apparently without seeing her +or anything that was before her eyes. + +"Maud," said Enid, starting up, "has your father gone?" + +"Yes, he has gone," replied Maud, in a hard, unnatural tone of voice. + +"You have not parted in anger?" + +"Well, yes; he is angry with me, certainly—angry or grieved. I believe +he said he was grieved. Of course, he tried to put me in the wrong. +People always do when they have given others occasion to reproach them." + +"Oh, Maud, do not speak like that! Remember it is your father of whom +you are speaking." + +"I am perfectly aware of that, unfortunately," said Maud in a bitter +tone. "But if fathers change, daughters can change also." + +"But your father has not changed towards you?" + +"Indeed, I have had proof to the contrary. He has spoken to me as +he never spoke to me before. He says he sees he has done wrong in +indulging me so much. He says I am selfish and exacting. I think only +of my own pleasure; I have no sense of duty. Oh, you have no idea how +unkind he has been!" + +"And what did you say?" asked Enid, as Maud paused, her voice choked by +passion. + +"Oh, I told him of course that I was determined I would never live with +Mrs. Marian, that I hoped he would not expect me to receive her, and +that I should be obliged to him if he would give me such an allowance +as would enable me to maintain an independent life." + +"And what did he say?" + +"At first, he refused to hear of such a thing. He was very indignant +with me. He told me I was ungrateful and without affection. But at +last he yielded, and said that he could not have his wife subjected to +indignities or rendered unhappy, and therefore it was perhaps better +that for the present I should continue to reside abroad." + +"Then you have got your own way, Maud?" + +"Yes." But the response came faintly from Maud's lips, and as she +uttered it she sank wearily on a chair. + +Glancing at her, Enid saw that she had become deadly pale. Enid just +reached her cousin's side in time to prevent her from falling fainting +to the floor. + +By night, Maud was in a high fever. The English medical man who was +summoned did not immediately pronounce upon the case; but there seemed +little doubt that she had contracted the malarial fever which is one of +the dangers of Rome, though those who exercise ordinary prudence have +little cause to dread it. Maud unhappily had been anything but prudent +of late, and she was now to suffer the penalty. + +The next morning it was necessary to inform her father of her illness. +He came to her at once, and was distressed at the condition in which +he found his daughter. Enid had abundant proof that the change that +had taken place in his life had wrought no accompanying change in his +feelings towards his daughter. However she had grieved and disappointed +him, she was still his idolised child. He said little to Maud. She was +too ill, indeed, though still conscious, to speak to him or listen to +his words. But his manner, and the few words he uttered, spoke the +deepest tenderness. + +"How will you manage?" he asked Enid. "You cannot nurse her alone." + +"Indeed, I can do all that is necessary for the present," said Enid. "I +am very strong." + +"Are there no English nurses to be had in Rome?" asked Mr. Marian, +turning to the doctor. + +"Oh yes; we have English nurses," he replied. "But I am not sure I can +promise you one just now. There are many cases of illness amongst the +English in Rome, and I fear all the nurses are engaged. But I will see +what I can do. Would you object to a Sister of Mercy?" + +"I don't think Maud would like one," said Enid. "She is very +particular. She cannot bear to have strangers about her. Please let me +nurse her. I am sure I can do it." + +"Yes, yes, of course," said the medical man. "You young people all +think that you are made of iron. But I know better; and I do not wish +to have two patients on my hands." + +But though he tried his best, he did not succeed in finding a nurse. +Enid waited on her cousin throughout that day, and at night also. +Signora Grassi came to relieve her at an early hour of the morning, and +sent her to lie down; but ere the doctor paid his visit, Enid was again +on duty in the sick room. + +She awaited his appearance in considerable anxiety. It seemed to her +that Maud was growing rapidly worse. The fever was higher than ever, +and she was now unconscious of all that passed. She did not know her +cousin, and did not understand when she spoke to her. She talked +incessantly, and her delirium took various distressing phases. At +times, it was all Enid could do to soothe and calm her. Enid drew a +sigh of relief as she heard the sound of steps approaching the door. + +The handle was gently turned and Mr. Marian entered the room. But +it was not the doctor who accompanied him. Stepping lightly behind +him came a little woman, whose appearance at once inspired Enid with +confidence. She was of robust form, but she moved with remarkable +ease and grace, and there was a certain youthfulness apparent in her +bearing, despite the fact that her hair was grey. Her features were +homely, but they were redeemed by a singularly sweet expression, and +a pair of honest, kind, grey eyes, which met Enid's with a look of +sympathy which went to the girl's heart. + +It struck Enid as soon as she saw her that this quiet, motherly little +person would be an inestimable comfort in the sick room. She went +to the side of the bed and laid her hand lightly on Maud's burning +forehead. + +"Poor child!" she said tenderly. "She is very ill; but I trust she will +soon take a turn for the better." And she looked into Mr. Marian's face +with a smile which sought to give courage. + +Then turning, she quickly laid aside her cloak and bonnet. She was +dressed in grey, of Quaker-like neatness. + +"I am going to stay awhile and help you, if I may," she said to Enid. +"I have had much experience of sickness, so I think I can be of use." + +"Oh, I am sure you will be," said Enid, very gratefully, and feeling as +if a heavy burden had been lifted from her mind. For, doctor's daughter +though she was, Enid knew little of the duties of a sick nurse. She had +been accustomed to wait on her mother when she was prostrated by pain +and weakness, and she had learned to move lightly, and perform little +services in a deft manner; but that was a very different thing from +bearing the responsibility of watching a fever case. + +"You will not mind if I make a few little alterations?" the stranger +said to Enid. + +"Certainly not," replied the girl. "Indeed, I shall be very thankful +to you. I have not known quite what I ought to do, and I have been so +afraid of doing something wrong." + +In a few minutes, the new-comer had effected an improvement both in the +appearance of the room and in that of the patient. She spoke cheerfully +to Enid in a low voice as she moved about. Enid noticed that she spoke +with a decidedly Scotch accent, but it was a peculiarity which she +found agreeable rather than otherwise. + +Presently the doctor arrived, and then Enid heard Mr. Marian introduce +this lady as his wife. Strange to say, it had not before occurred +to Enid that this was the stepmother whom Maud was determined to +repudiate. Now that she knew who she was, she observed her with some +astonishment. There was a certain homeliness in Mrs. Marian's bearing, +and her gown was not made in the newest fashion; but where was the +vulgarity of which Maud had spoken? + +Enid listened critically to her words, expecting to hear her murder +the Queen's English; but she was guilty of nothing worse than a few +provincialisms, and these were excusable in one who had obviously +passed much of her life remote from towns, and who had retained about +her that atmosphere of simplicity and unworldliness which is associated +with the best description of country life—a type which is becoming +rare in the England of to-day. Enid had perception enough to see that +Mrs. Marian lacked none of the essentials of a true lady. She was +daintily neat and nice in her dress, her manners were gentle, and her +countenance proclaimed that she had a kind, unselfish heart, and was a +woman to be trusted. + +Enid wondered a little at the prejudice which condemns as vulgar +everything which does not bear its own particular stamp. There is, +perhaps, nothing more vulgar than the eagerness with which some people +avoid all that they deem deserving of that epithet, for there are other +superstitions and bigotries besides those that are connected with +religion. + +The doctor eyed Mrs. Marian with approval, and was well pleased to +find her established in the sick room; and in the days that followed, +her presence there proved of inestimable service. Enid often wondered +afterwards what she would have done at this time but for Mrs. Marian. +Maud lay in a critical state for many days. Hour after hour Mrs. Marian +watched beside her bed. There could not have been a more devoted +nurse. It should not be her fault, she had resolved, if the life so +inexpressibly dear to her husband succumbed to the fatal power of +disease. All the aid that it was possible to give to the patient she +gave. + +When the crisis of the fever came, and there was danger of the patient +sinking away in the utter exhaustion which ensued, it was she who +watched her with closest attention, and gave from time to time the +sustenance on which her life depended. And her efforts won their +reward. The turning-point was passed, and slowly, very slowly, Maud's +strength began to return. + +"She will do now, if there is no relapse," said the doctor to Enid a +few hours later. "She has a fine constitution, and it has conquered in +the struggle. But it is Mrs. Marian who has brought her through—it was +not I who saved her. She must have died had she had a less efficient +nurse. I can only say that, under God, she owes her recovery to Mrs. +Marian." + +Life is full of surprises, and the irony of fate has passed into a +proverb. It was curious to Enid to look back and recall Maud's bitter +speeches concerning her stepmother, and her proud determination to have +nothing to do with her. And now the one she had so despised, the woman +she had determined to shun, had been for many days her devoted nurse, +and it was to her that she owed her life! Enid could not but wonder how +Maud would feel when she came to know the truth. + +But for the present, it had to be kept from her. Every risk of +agitating her must be avoided whilst she was still so weak. As +consciousness returned to her, Mrs. Marian was obliged to withdraw from +the sick room, though she still watched the patient as much as she +dared, and was sometimes to be found there, seated out of sight behind +a curtain, whilst Maud was unconscious of her presence. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A HARD DUTY + +FOR three weeks—three long weary weeks—had Maud lain in the +unconsciousness of fever. To Enid, the time had seemed like three +months. The bright happy days when she had so thoroughly enjoyed the +fresh and stimulating interests of Rome seemed to have receded into +the far distance. The clouds as well as the sunshine which had marked +those days were alike forgotten. She felt as if she had passed an age +in Rome, so full and deep had been the experience she had gained there. + +Whilst Maud lay in a condition which might terminate in death, Enid +had few thoughts save for her. She knew now how dear, in spite of +her proud, petulant, trying ways, her cousin had become to her. +Maud's faults passed into shade, and only the winning charm of the +high-spirited, ambitious girl was remembered. Enid thought that if +only her cousin were restored to health and strength, she would desire +nothing more. + +Even when she said good-bye to Mrs. Dakin and Miss Amory on their +departure for London, and they spoke of joining Julius, she listened +almost with indifference. She fancied that certain feelings which had +disturbed her mind a little while back were already not benumbed, but +dead. She had suffered a dream to trouble her, but she was awake now, +and knew that she had dreamed. + +Sharing the terrible anxiety and suspense in which Mr. Marian watched +beside his darling child, Enid might well forget all else. Even after +the patient had passed the crisis of the fever, there was need for the +utmost caution, lest a relapse should occur. Maud was herself again; +but the pulse of life beat very low, and her debility was such that she +could hardly believe that she was on the way to recovery. + +"I shall never be strong again—never!" she would say, with tears of +weakness in her eyes. "It is impossible! Look at my hand, Enid, how +thin it is! I can almost see through it. And my arms! No one would know +them for mine." + +"'Coraggio!'" said Enid, with a smile. "You are stronger already; and +if only you take all the food we give you, your arms and hands will +soon look different." + +So saying, she proceeded to administer to her cousin some strengthening +jelly, which Maud swallowed eagerly. She had a ravenous craving for +nourishment, which was esteemed by the doctor a good symptom. + +"I don't feel any stronger," she said; but already her voice was less +faint. "I must be very altered, Enid. Do I not look dreadful without my +hair?" + +There was a shadow on her face as she passed beer hand regretfully over +the short golden locks which were all that remained of the hair which +had been her glory. + +"No, Miss Vanity; you do not look dreadful." said Enid playfully. "You +used to look like one of Pinturicchio's angels, and now you look like +one of his cherubs—that's all the difference it makes. Now never say +that I do not pay you compliments." + +Compliment though it was, the comparison was not inapt. The short, +fair locks curling on her brow, the transparent delicacy of her +complexion, and the helpless, docile, dependent expression often seen +in convalescence, gave to Maud's countenance quite an infantile grace. + +Her cousin's words pleased her. She smiled, and a faint tinge of +colour, delicate as the pink flush within a shell, crept into her cheek. + +"It is foolish of me to mind," she said; "but I was proud of my hair." + +"You will be proud of it again yet, I am afraid," said Enid smiling. + +"Enid," said Maud, after a pause—they were alone together—"have you +taken care of me all the time I was ill?" + +"Your father was here too, you know," replied Enid. + +"Yes, of course; but did you do all the nursing? Had you no one to help +you?" + +"There was a lady—a lady staying here—who came very kindly and helped +me," said Enid, with some hesitation. + +To her relief, Maud did not enquire what was the lady's name. + +"I thought there was someone else," she said. "I seem to have a faint +recollection of a woman who was with me, and who was very kind and +gentle. I believe I thought she was my mother, and she spoke tenderly +to me. I had visions of my mother many times when I was ill." + +"I did not know that you could remember your mother," Enid said. "I +fancied you were very young when she died." + +"So I was—too young to remember her. But there was a portrait of her in +my father's room; and when I was a tiny child, he would lift me up to +look at it, and I used to kiss the glass which covered the dear kind +face. I always carried that picture of my mother in my heart, and often +in my childish troubles, I used to long that my mother could come to +me and take me in her arms. You see, I saw other children with their +mothers, so I knew what I had missed. But afterwards Aunt Helen came to +take care of me, and then I ceased to fret." + +Tears came into Enid's eyes as she thought of all that her own mother +had been to her. The yearning she had to be with her again was at times +almost more than she could bear. She dared not let her thoughts dwell +upon home. The experience of the last few weeks had deepened her sense +of home-sickness; but she would not give way to it, for she foresaw +that it would be long ere Maud was fit to travel back to England. + +Enid hastened to speak on another subject, for she saw that memories +of the past had brought a burden upon Maud's mind. She looked weary +and sad, nor did Enid's best efforts avail to conquer her depression. +At last, however, she fell asleep from very weariness; and when Mr. +Marian and his wife presently entered the room, she lay in what looked +a most peaceful slumber. Mrs. Marian sent Enid away to take a walk, and +herself sat down to watch the patient. + +Maud's sleep was less profound than it appeared. Not many minutes had +passed since Enid left the house, when she began to move restlessly in +her sleep, and presently, with a sigh, she opened her eyes. Mrs. Marian +had withdrawn out of sight behind a curtain; Maud's voice reached her, +saying plaintively,— + +"Enid, Enid!" + +The watcher paused in perplexity. What was she to do? Enid was away; +her husband was not at hand. Should she venture to show herself to the +invalid? + +"Enid, Enid!" Maud cried again, this time with a touch of querulousness +in her tone. + +Mrs. Marian could hesitate no longer. She went forward to the bed. + +"What is it you want, dear? Enid has gone out for a little while; but I +am here to wait on you." + +Maud gazed at her in surprise. She saw something familiar in the kind +face that looked down on her, but could not at once determine to whom +it belonged. She continued to gaze without speaking, and Mrs. Marian +had to repeat her question. + +"I am thirsty," said Maud abruptly. + +Mrs. Marian passed into the next room to fetch a cooling draught. She +was gone but a few moments; but in the interval, the truth flashed on +Maud's mind, and she knew who it was who was thus waiting on her. + +When Mrs. Marian approached her, Maud flushed deeply, and made a hasty +movement, as though she would refuse the drink for which she had asked. +But her nurse appeared not to observe the action, and quietly placed +the glass in her hand, whereupon Maud drained it, and gave it back with +a faint "Thank you." + +She immediately turned on her side and closed her eyes. Mrs. Marian sat +down and took up her knitting again. Maud lay perfectly still, but she +was not asleep, nor was her state of mind tranquil. It was only by a +strong effort that she maintained the appearance of repose. Presently +Mr. Marian entered the room, said a few words in a low tone to his +wife, and stood watching Maud for a while. She carefully feigned to +be asleep, and he went away again. Not a word did Maud utter till she +found herself once more alone with her cousin. + +Then, with a sudden excess of energy caused by excitement, she raised +herself in bed, and said angrily, whilst a bright crimson spot burned +in each cheek, "Why did you not tell me, Enid, that that woman was +here?" + +Enid did not enquire what woman. She answered very quietly, "I thought +it better not to tell you yet. I feared it would disturb you." + +"You were right; of course it vexes me very much. Do you mean to say +that she has been here helping to nurse me ever since I was taken ill?" + +"Indeed she has. And oh! Maud, if you knew how good and kind she has +been, you would not speak of her in that way." + +"Yes, I should. I do not want her to be good and kind to me. You ought +not to have let her come, Enid. You must have known that I should hate +to have her do anything for me." + +"Don't you think you are rather ungrateful, Maud?" + +"I don't care if I am. I do not want to be grateful to her. Why should +she come and thrust her services upon me?" + +"Oh, Maud, do not speak like that. I was most thankful for her help. +You forget how ill you have been, and what a time of sorrow and anxiety +we have all known." + +Maud threw herself back upon her pillows, and began to sob passionately. + +"It is a pity I am getting well," she cried. "It would have been better +if I had died. Perhaps I shall not get over it after all—I do not want +to live. Enid, mind, I will not have her do anything more for me. +Promise me that you will not leave me to her care again." + +It was vain to argue with this spoiled child in her nervous, +debilitated condition. Enid was obliged to give the promise required of +her, and to do all in her power to soothe Maud's agitation. + + +But the next day, Maud was not so well. There was a slight return of +the fever. Fresh anxiety was awakened. For some days, Maud's condition +did not improve. What change there was, was retrograde rather than +progressive. The doctor was at a loss to understand the cause. + +"There is nothing upon her mind, is there?" he asked once. "Pray let +nothing trouble her that you can possibly avoid. A very slight cause of +disquietude will work ill on one so reduced as she is." + +Enid and Mr. Marian looked at each other in silence. Each knew well +what was disturbing Maud's serenity; but it was not in their power to +remove the cause. This was a case in which the patient must minister to +herself. + +Mrs. Marian had withdrawn from all attendance on the invalid. When Enid +required to be relieved, Signora Grassi or one of the servants would +take her place. + +Maud continued restless, irritable, fretful. At times, she was so +exacting that there was no pleasing her; then she would be seized with +contrition, and reproach herself bitterly for her ill-temper, or she +would fall into a state of deep depression, and wish that she might die. + +When her father was present, although he manifested the utmost +tenderness towards her, she seemed always to feel a sense of +constraint. She never mentioned Mrs. Marian, but it was evidently not +because she did not think of her. + +Enid wondered with some uneasiness how long this state of things would +last, and what the end of it would be. She thought it would be well +if Maud would speak to her on the subject which lay so heavily on +her mind; but Maud seemed proudly determined to keep her thoughts to +herself, perhaps because she foresaw that they would not meet with full +sympathy from her cousin. + +At last, however, the ice-was in a measure broken, and it was a letter +from Sidney Althorp which effected this. It was the first letter Maud +had received from him since her illness, though he had constantly +written to enquire concerning her; and when she was most seriously +ill, Mr. Marian had from time to time sent him telegrams. Enid could +see that Mr. Marian regarded this young man almost as a son, and had +the utmost confidence in him. He often said that it would have been +impossible for him to remain away so long if he had not had Sidney +Althorp to look after his business in his absence. He told Enid one day +that he meant to take Sidney Althorp as his partner in his business; +but he begged her not to mention this to Maud for the present, as he +wished himself to surprise her with the news when she was a little +stronger. + +Enid had thus come to feel considerable interest in Mr. Sidney Althorp, +and she watched her cousin with some curiosity as she read the letter +she had received from him. A faint flush rose in Maud's cheek, and she +looked pleased as she perused the opening lines; but presently her brow +clouded, and it was with a sigh that she laid down the letter. She lay +for some time without speaking, her face wearing a very thoughtful +expression. + +"Your letter has made you look grave," said Enid at length. "I hope +there was nothing in it to trouble you?" + +"No, not exactly," said Maud, with another sigh. "It is a very kind +letter. You know Sidney is like a brother to me." + +"Yes, I know," replied Enid. Then after a minute she added, "I am +glad I have seen him; I like him so much. He seems to me a very fine +character." + +"I suppose he is," said Maud perversely; "but I am not sure that I like +fine characters. People who think the right thing, say the right thing, +and do the right thing on every occasion, bore me terribly." + +"You cannot be often bored in that way," remarked Enid. "I wonder why +you dislike the idea of perfection so much." + +"Because it is unnatural. I cannot attain to it myself, and I do not +like that others should excel me. Somehow good people always make me +feel dreadfully wicked, and I long to say or do something to shock +them. That is the effect Sidney Althorp always has on me." + +"But why?" asked Enid. + +"I don't know why. It's my natural perversity, I suppose. If Sidney +were here now, I should say or do all sorts of things on purpose to vex +him." + +"Very amiable of you," observed Enid. "What has he said in his letter +to put you out so?" + +"It is not so much what he says as the way in which he takes it for +granted that I am as good as he is," replied Maud. + +"But do you not find that the fact that another person thinks highly of +you helps you to be good?" + +"No; it does not have that effect upon me," replied Maud. "It only +makes me impatient. What is the good of my trying to be good? I could +never be as good as Sidney Althorp!" + +"He would tell you to aim far higher than that," said Enid. "Everyone +who would live truly must seek to conform his or her life to the One +True Life. I begin to see, as I never saw before, that Christ is the +touchstone of character. No one is really great whose life bears no +resemblance to His. It is not easy to be like Christ. We may strive and +fail. We do fail continually; but in spite of failure it is well to aim +at the highest." + +"I think my life has been all a failure," said Maud wearily. "I am a +failure as an artist—I can see that now. I have been thinking over all +my work whilst I have been lying here, and I am disgusted with it. I do +not believe I shall ever have the heart to touch a brush again." + +"Oh yes, you will," said Enid. "You will take up your work with fresh +zest when you are strong again. I think it is good for us sometimes to +be forced to rest. You will resume your work, I believe, with fresh +power and a higher aim." + +"I have never aimed very high," said Maud. "Perhaps that is why I have +failed. I have never thought of anything save my own pleasure and the +gratification of my pride. I am disgusted with my life. It is true, +Enid, that I often wish I could die; yet I know I am not fit to die, +for if it is true that each one of us must give an account of himself +to God, I should have a poor account to give." + +"Don't wish to die, Maud, but to live; and make up your mind to live +in earnest. You are getting stronger, thank God, and your health would +improve more rapidly if your mind were at rest." + +"What do you mean, Enid?" asked Maud, with a touch of annoyance in her +tone. "How do you know that my mind is not at rest?" + +"Have you not told me as much?" said Enid. "How can it be at rest when +you feel so dissatisfied with your life?" + +"And you might add, that the state of things between me and my father +is not calculated to give me repose of mind," added Maud. "Of course I +cannot help seeing how much I grieve him, and I am sorry to make him +unhappy. Yet you cannot think how I hate the thought of receiving that +woman. I want to keep her at arm's length all the time." + +"If you knew her, and how good and kind she is, I do not think you +would feel so," said Enid gently. + +"There, now you are taking part against me!" cried Maud impatiently. +"Oh dear! I cannot see that it is my fault that things have come to +such a pass! My life seems to have got all wrong, and I do not see how +to set it right." + +"I don't think that is difficult, Maud." + +"Oh, you mean that I should begin to 'do my duty,' as Sidney Althorp +would say. How I hate that word 'duty!' It always means something +disagreeable. I suppose if I had done my duty. I should not have come +to Rome last winter, and then perhaps my father would not have married, +and I should have escaped all this trouble. But it is of no use +thinking of that now! I can't undo the past." + +"No; but you can avoid committing the same sort of mistake again. Duty +is really no enemy, Maud. You think her so because you shrink from her. +Follow her, and you will find her a friend." + +"Well, how shall I follow her? What would you have me do, Enid?" + +"Begin with the duty that lies nearest to you," Enid gently. "You must +know what that is." + +The silence that followed seemed to show that Maud did know. Enid half +feared that she had offended her cousin by speaking so plainly; but +Maud's face wore a troubled, thoughtful expression, which was not one +of anger. + +Many minutes passed without either saying a word. A struggle was going +on in Maud's mind. At last, she spoke in a low, unsteady voice— + +"I suppose I must give in, Enid, and try for once to do what is right. +Will you ask my father to come to me?" + +Enid stooped and kissed her cousin without saying a word, then hastened +to do her bidding. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A HERO + +WHEN she had given Maud's message to Mr. Marian, and he had gone to his +daughter, Enid felt sure that Maud would not need her presence for some +time, so she availed herself of the opportunity to take a walk. + +Of late she had been in the house far more than was good for her, and +her health had suffered in consequence. She had striven to be cheerful +for her cousin's sake; but the many hours passed in the sick room, and +the extent to which her sympathy and forbearance had been taxed, could +not fail to exert a depressing influence on her. She felt sad and weary +as she stepped into the street. + +It was late in the afternoon, and the air was growing fresh. Enid liked +to have a purpose in her walk, and she thought of an errand that would +take her to the Borgo Santo Spirito, at the other side of the city. She +passed along the Via Sistina, and descended the Spanish Steps. + +She was crossing the piazza below, when someone uttered her name in a +high, resonant voice, and looking round she found Miss Guy beside her. +Enid was surprised to see her, for this lady had left the "pension" +some weeks earlier, and Enid believed that she had returned to England. +The surprise was hardly an agreeable one, but Enid did her best to +respond cordially to the eagerness with which Miss Guy greeted her. +Just as they were parting, she laid her hand on Enid's arm, and said, +"Has your cousin heard the news about Miss Amory?" + +"What news?" replied Enid in surprise. + +"Ah! I thought very likely you might not have heard. I only got the +news yesterday in a letter from London. She is engaged to be married." + +"Is she really?" said Enid, interested at once. "Do you know to whom +she is engaged? It is no one whom I know, I suppose?" + +"Why, of course," said Miss Guy, laughing. "Who should it be but Mr. +Dakin?" + +Something like an electric shock seemed to pass through Enid as +she heard the words; but the very extent to which she was startled +prevented her from showing any particular emotion. + +"Is it so?" she said, quietly. "Then I hope they will be happy. +Miss Amory is very bright and pretty. But I must really be going +on—good-bye." And she walked quickly away, whilst Miss Guy stood +looking after her with a malicious smile on her face. + +Enid had received a painful surprise; but the immediate effect of +the news was to act as a stimulant to both body and mind. She walked +on with a quick, vigorous step, and her head held high. A feeling of +scorn had been awakened within her which gave her a curious sense of +exaltation. She even felt a sort of wonder at herself that she should +have heard such news and be so little affected by it. She thought of +her cousin, and hoped that she would not be seriously disturbed when +she learned what had come to pass. It seemed almost as if the fact had +little interest for her, save as it might affect her cousin in her +weak condition. It caused anxiety on Maud's account, that was all. +Enid smiled to think how brief a time had passed since Julius Dakin +had sought to win her for his wife. Well, the love he had offered then +could not have been worth much. It would be foolish to grieve over the +loss of so light a thing. And uplifted by pride, Enid felt wise and +strong enough to defy this startling event to disturb her serenity of +mind. + +She walked on briskly, accomplished her errand, and then, yearning +for a breath of purer air than could be had in the close ill-smelling +streets of the Borgo, she ascended the straight steep street which +leads to the church and convent of St. Onofrio, the home and tomb of +Tasso, on the slopes of the Janiculum. She passed the convent and went +on up the hill, lingering for a few moments at the spot where Tasso was +wont to sit beneath his famous oak, which, crippled and propped, still +lives to put forth leaves in an honoured old age. The view from this +point is very fine, but finer still from the newly-made terrace above, +to which Enid now ascended by a flight of stone steps. + +Many times during her stay in Rome had she climbed that hill for the +sake of the view it afforded; yet often as her eyes had been gladdened +by the prospect, it seemed to her that it had never looked so lovely +as now. Yet why did the sight bring tears to her eyes—for tears they +certainly were which shone on the long dark lashes, and in her heart +was a sore sense of bitterness and disappointment? + +When Enid reached home, and went to her cousin's room, she found Mrs. +Marian seated, knitting in hand, by Maud's side, whilst the face of the +invalid wore a more tranquil expression than Enid had seen on it for +some time. She looked at her cousin with a meaning smile which seemed +to say, "You see I have done all that could be expected of me, and am +trying to make the best of it." + +But when presently Mrs. Marian went out and left them alone, Maud had +little to say about what had passed. + +"I have done my duty, Enid," was all she remarked; "but I won't pretend +that I liked doing it, or that I feel wonderfully happy now it is done." + +"But you will feel happier, though," said Enid. + +Maud made no reply. Enid asked no questions. She felt that the less +that was said about experiences so mortifying to Maud's pride the +better. The strong prejudice Maud had conceived towards her father's +wife could not be overcome in a day. Enid believed that in the end Mrs. +Marian's gentle, loving disposition would win for her the affection of +her stepdaughter; but this must be the work of time. + + +Meanwhile, in the days that followed, Enid watched anxiously the +intercourse between the two, fearing lest anything should occur to +check the slow growth of mutual esteem. + +But Mrs. Marian was a model of discretion. She understood the character +with which she had to deal, and she did not attempt to overstep the +limits which Maud's manner tacitly imposed. She was careful not to +give the young lady too much of her company, nor to annoy her with +fussy attentions. Yet in many ways, Maud was made to feel the worth of +Mrs. Marian's kind thoughtfulness, and her perfect comprehension of an +invalid's needs. + +Perhaps it was well that they were not together long at this time. +Whether she were happier or not in consequence of having obeyed the +voice of conscience, Maud's health improved from that day with rapid +strides. Her recovery seemed now assured. She was strong enough to +bear a short journey, and by the recommendation of the medical man, +apartments were taken for her at Frascati, a charming summer resort on +one of the slopes of the Alban Hills. + +Mr. Marian thought that when he had seen his daughter settled at +Frascati, he might return to the business which now urgently required +his presence. Naturally he wished to take his bride with him. They had +passed a strange honeymoon, but perhaps the hours of painful suspense +and anxiety they had spent together had drawn their hearts closer to +each other than they would have come in hours of mere pleasure-seeking. +It hardly seemed right to leave with Enid the sole charge of the +invalid. But when Maud received a hint of the difficulty, she at once +made a suggestion which removed it. + +"Let us ask Miss Strutt to go with us to Frascati," she said. "She +knows the place well, and has often spent weeks there making sketches +of the scenery. You need have no fear for us if she consents, for she +is the most prudent old Scotch-woman you could find anywhere. And Enid +likes her. It would please Enid, and she deserves to be considered, for +she has had a sad time with me of late. She little thought what she was +taking upon herself when she agreed to come abroad with me." + +To the satisfaction of everyone concerned, Miss Strutt willingly +consented to accompany the girls to Frascati. Enid had now to busy +herself with preparations for their departure. The studio had to be +dismantled, and its pretty things packed away in boxes. This was +melancholy work. Maud had desired that her treasures should be so +packed that they might easily be forwarded to her in London. + +"For I shall never come back to work at the Studio Mariano," she said +with a sigh. + +"You think so now," Enid had replied, "but you will feel differently +when you are strong again. There is no reason why you should not come +back." + +"I know; but I shall not do so," Maud said. "It has all been such a +failure somehow." + +Enid understood, and said no more. + +One afternoon when Enid returned from spending some time at the studio, +Maud asked her if she had seen Miss Strutt. + +"No," said Enid. "I knocked at her door, but she was out." + +"She has been here. She did not know that you were at the studio. She +hoped she might meet you on the way back. Only think, Enid; she says +that Mrs. Dakin and Julius came home last night." + +"Indeed!" Enid bent hastily to inhale the perfume of a pot of +heliotrope which stood near the window. + +"Are not you glad, Enid?" + +Enid ignored the question, and said, "Did Miss Strutt tell you any news +of Julius Dakin?" + +"No, indeed. What news should she tell me?" + +"Oh, I did not know if you had heard. I was told the other day that he +was engaged to Miss Amory." + +"Who told you that?" + +"It was Miss Guy." + +"Then I don't believe it is true," said Maud. + +"Oh yes, I think it is true," returned Enid nervously. + +"Why should you? You know we have not always found Miss Guy's +statements trustworthy." + +Enid was silent. It had never occurred to her to doubt the accuracy of +the intelligence given by Miss Guy. + +"Do you hope that it is not true, Maud?" she asked presently. + +"For some reasons I do," replied her cousin quietly. + +Enid was still giving her attention to the flowers. She had not +ventured to look at her cousin, but now as Maud spoke, she stole a +glance at her. It was not as she had feared. Maud's face did indeed +wear a thoughtful expression as she leaned back upon her cushions; but +was hardly a troubled look. She had not grown pale, nor did she show +any sign of excessive agitation. And when Enid looked again, Maud was +actually smiling. + +"When did Miss Guy tell you this?" she asked. + +"More than a week ago," said Enid. "I met her in the Piazza di Spagna, +as I was going for a walk." + +"And you never told me—you never said a word of it till now. You +naughty Enid! I know why you kept it from me. You thought, did you not, +that it would hurt me to hear of Julius Dakin's engagement?" + +Enid coloured guiltily, and could say nothing. + +"I thought so," said Maud, laughing. "Well, I will be frank with you. +Some time ago it might have disturbed me to hear such news. I believe +I was silly enough to think that I—I cared for Julius Dakin. But I was +cured of that folly when I heard the way in which he spoke of me that +day in the studio. I don't know whether it was my heart or my vanity +that felt the wound, but it was a wound. I could never feel the same +towards Julius Dakin afterwards." + +"It was very wrong of him to say what he did," said Enid. + +"And yet he was right. The truth in his words made them sting the more. +I was a joke as an artist—I can see that now." + +"You were not, Maud," replied Enid; "you have a genuine love for +everything that is beautiful; you have fine taste; you have the +instincts of an artist." + +"Without the power," observed Maud, drily. "Well, we will not discuss +that. I am thinking about Miss Amory. I never liked the idea of Julius' +marrying her, even after I had ceased to have silly fancies about +myself; but now I really do not care whether he marries her or not. It +is wonderful the change in one that an illness like mine makes. I feel +quite another being, and my past life, with all its hopes and fears, +seems a long, long way off, and so dreamlike—the experience of some +one else rather than my own. Still, I am surprised at Julius Dakin. +He always used to laugh so at Miss Amory; I never thought he could +really care for her. But she is very rich, and men are incomprehensible +beings." + +"They are indeed," said Enid. + +"There is one man, though, whom I thoroughly believe in," said Maud, +with sudden energy, "and that is my dreadful friend and mentor, Sidney +Althorp. Do you know that he is to be my father's partner? Father has +been telling me about it this morning." + +"I thought it would be so," replied Enid, "and I am very glad." + +"I need not have distressed myself," she thought, as she went away to +her own room. "I need not have feared that Maud would break her heart +for Julius Dakin's sake. What a difference it would have made to me +if I had known the truth before! But I am thankful—oh yes!—I am most +thankful that I acted as I did." + +Enid locked the door of the Studio Mariano and drew out the key. The +action was familiar enough, but to-day it had for her a peculiar +significance, for she said to herself that it was the last time. +Maud's possessions had already been removed to a place of security. +Nothing remained in the apartment except what was the property of the +"padrone," and Enid was about to return to him the key. + +She paused for a moment on the landing. All was still in the house, for +the season was now far advanced, and most of the artists who worked +there in the winter had already taken their departure. Enid and her +cousin, with Miss Strutt, were to leave Rome on the morrow. + +"So," said Enid to herself; half aloud, "it is all over." + +There was something so melancholy in the thought, it was so painful +to recall all that had happened since the last hours of work and chat +which had been spent in that room, that Enid suddenly turned and +hurried down the stairs, as if anxious to escape from the place, gave +up the key, and was thankful to find herself in the street. + +She was passing along the Via Sistina when an alarming thing occurred. +Without the least warning a loud report rent the air—so loud, so near, +that everyone in the street was painfully startled, and turned with one +accord in the direction whence the sound came. + +On the other side of the Piazza Barberini a cloud of smoke, or dust +could be seen rising. + +"A house has fallen!" was the cry. + +Such events are not unknown in the history of modern Rome, where tall +houses of barrack-like ugliness are being rapidly constructed with +little regard to their safety or sanitation, whilst the beauty of the +old city is recklessly sacrificed to the supposed necessities of modern +life. + +[Illustration] + +Enid found herself borne along in the stream of persons who quickly +gathered together from houses and street corners, and made for the +scene of the disaster. But mid-way in the piazza they were met by +a number of persons hurrying from the spot, and the excitement was +increased by the tidings which these brought. + +Enid turned to a man standing near, and learned from him that part of +an old house, which was being rebuilt, had fallen, and it was feared +that several workmen were buried under the "débris." + +"Ah, poor fellows!" she exclaimed, sickening with horror at the thought +of their suffering. "They will surely be killed." + +The man shrugged his shoulders, not unfeelingly, but by way of +expressing his sense of their small chance of escape. + +Enid waited some minutes longer, but could learn no more. The crowd +was increasing at every instant; but the police had mustered too, and +were forcibly preventing the people from approaching dangerously near +to the wrecked house. As the pressure grew uncomfortable, Enid was glad +to extricate herself from the crowd, and returned home by some of the +quieter back streets. + +Maud had begun to throw off her invalid habits, and was now well enough +to receive visitors. When Enid entered her room, she found Mrs. Dakin +with her. That lady greeted Enid very warmly. + +"Well, Enid," she said, "I little thought to find you still in Rome on +my return; but this has been a sad illness of Maud's. However, it is +over now, so we will not speak of it. I tell her she is prettier than +ever, with her short baby locks and delicate bloom. But you are not +looking well, Enid. I declare you have given your roses to your cousin." + +"I never had any to give," said Enid rather bluntly—she disliked the +least approach to flattery. "My colour was never anything but a good +serviceable brown." + +"Well, whatever it was—we will not quarrel as to the shade—you have +lost it altogether now." + +"I have been rather frightened," said Enid. "Did you hear the noise of +that house falling?" + +"Indeed we did," said Maud. "It startled me dreadfully. I could +not think what it meant till the servant came and told us what had +happened. Have you heard any particulars?" + +Enid told all she knew. They discussed the accident for some minutes. + +Then Maud asked Mrs. Dakin if Miss Amory were with her. + +"No, indeed," was the reply. "She is not likely to bestow her company +on me just now. She is visiting some of the relatives of her 'fiancé.'" + +Then, seeing the girls' astonished looks, Mrs. Dakin added quickly— + +"Oh, surely you have not heard and believed that ridiculous report?" + +"We were told," said Maud, "that there was a prospect of Miss Amory's +becoming your daughter-in-law." + +"Oh dear!" said Mrs. Dakin in a tone of quiet exasperation. "I should +like to know who has spreading that story amongst my acquaintance. And +yet perhaps it is only a natural mistake, for Blanche 'is' going to +marry a Mr. Dakin, a cousin of my husband." + +"Indeed! How strange that is!" said Maud, highly interested. "It has +come about very quickly, has it not?" + +"With quite marvellous celerity," said Mrs. Dakin, her brows slightly +contracted. Evidently the match was not entirely to her mind. + +"Is he nice?" asked Maud. + +"He is very rich," said Mrs. Dakin drily, "but otherwise, not the sort +of man I should have imagined Blanche Amory would choose." + +Enid heard all in silence. She felt convinced that Miss Guy had +purposely misled her with respect to Miss Amory's engagement, but it +hardly seemed worth while to be angry now. She was half ashamed of the +change wrought in her feelings by this explanation of the true state +of affairs. It was as if a great weight were lifted off her heart. She +dared not look at her cousin—not that she had any fear of what she +would see on Maud's countenance, but because she dreaded lest Maud +should read her own too truly. + +But the talk went on, and apparently neither of the other two observed +Enid's silence. Mrs. Dakin had much to relate concerning her visit to +London. Tea was brought in, and Enid roused herself, and began to take +part in the conversation. The visitor seemed in no hurry to depart, and +as she was a charming companion, the girls tried to detain her as long +as possible. She had been there nearly an hour when at last she rose to +go. + +"I shall hope to see you again before long," she said, as she bade Maud +good-bye. "Julius must drive me out to Frascati some day. I hope to +remain at home till the end of June, if the heat is not too dreadful." + +Enid accompanied her to the outer door. As they were saying a final +good-bye, another loud report shook the house and jarred all the +windows. + +Mrs. Dakin uttered a nervous scream. "This is dreadful!" she said. +"Another wall must have fallen. It is shameful that such things should +occur in Rome! Someone must be very much to blame." + +"Oh, I do hope there are no more lives lost," said Enid, pale with +dread. + +At that moment, Mr. Marian came up the stairs. + +"Ah, you have been frightened—and no wonder!" he said, approaching +the ladies. "But I think you need not fear that any more persons are +injured. They were expecting another portion of the house to fall when +I was there just now, and the police were doing their utmost to keep +everyone at a safe distance." + +"Have they been able to extricate those poor workmen?" asked Enid +anxiously. + +"Yes; I believe they have got them all out. One poor fellow was killed, +and another was so injured that his recovery seems almost impossible. +Four of them have been removed to the hospital. The King has been +there, superintending the efforts of the rescuers, and even working +himself, at considerable risk, in the hope of saving the poor men." + +"That is just like him!" exclaimed Mrs. Dakin enthusiastically. "What a +noble man he is!" + +"Yes, indeed," echoed Enid; "he is a true hero. Rome has some living +ones still, though most of her heroes are dead and gone." + +"They have passed from earth," said Mr. Marian, "but in a sense they +are neither dead nor gone. The spirit of a grand heroic life lives on +after the human life is ended, and has its influence on succeeding +generations." + +Enid hastened away to see if her cousin had been greatly disturbed +by the second shock, and Mr. Marian conducted Mrs. Dakin down to her +carriage. + +Since Maud's illness, and the arrival of Mr. Marian and his wife at +the "pension," Enid had not dined at the common table. Mr. Marian had +engaged a private sitting-room for his party, and their meals were +served to them there. Enid thus missed hearing the eager discussion +of the day's alarming incident which went on at Signora Grassi's +dinner-table. + +Mr. Marian, seeing that all the ladies were excited and perturbed by +what had happened, resolutely talked of other things. For Maud's sake, +Enid seconded his efforts, but her thoughts continually reverted to the +accident. It had produced on her mind a strange sense of foreboding, +for which it was impossible to account. She tried hard to appear +unmoved, and succeeded, though in truth her nerves were more shaken by +the event than were Maud's. + +After dinner, Enid went to her room to finish her packing, but +presently a restless desire for further news led her into the corridor, +and she passed along it till she gained the door of the dining-room. + +The dinner was over, but some few ladies still sat at the table +trifling with the dessert, and talking with much eagerness. Enid heard +their words clearly as she lingered in the shadow of the doorway. + +"Poor fellow!" said one. "I should be grieved if he is really +dangerously hurt. They say his courage was splendid. He was warned that +it was not safe to linger another moment, but he was intent upon saving +the man, and would not think of himself." + +"What man? I do not understand," said another voice. + +"Why, did you not hear what Mr. Archer was telling us about it? It +seems that there was a man in a doorway, pinned in by a mass of brick, +but almost unhurt. They were working frantically to set him free, and +had all but released him, when there was a shout that the wall above +was tottering to its fall. Everyone ran back except Mr. Julius Dakin. +He 'would' not till he had torn away the last stone and set the man +free. Then both ran; but the falling wall caught Mr. Dakin and felled +him to the ground." + +"Oh, how dreadful! Was he very much hurt?" + +"No one knows yet. He was taken up insensible. I should think myself +such a blow might be his death." + +Enid felt as if she were turning to stone as she listened. She clung +to the wall for support, conscious of nothing save a sense of pain and +blankness and despair. Suddenly Signora Grassi came along the passage. +Enid sprang forward and grasped her with both hands. + +"Oh, signora, is it true?" + +"Is what true, 'carina?'" she asked, startled by her agitated manner. + +"What they are saying about Mr. Dakin? Is he really so seriously hurt?" + +"It is true that he has met with an injury. Let us hope it is not so +very bad. My dear child, I am sorry you have learned this so suddenly. +I forgot that he was a friend of yours." + +"Oh, it does not matter about me," said Enid faintly, "only I wanted to +know." + +She controlled herself with an effort, turned, and walked slowly down +the passage. She entered her room again, and sat down on the side of +her bed, strewn with articles that she had been about to put into her +trunk. Opposite her, gaping open, stood the half-filled trunk. Enid +gazed at it with vacant eyes. + +"Yes," she said to herself, half aloud, "there are still heroes in the +world. He is one too. I always knew there was good in him. But oh! If +this should be his—" She could not utter the word death. + +Suddenly a mist seemed to float before her eyes. The trunk at which she +was gazing swelled mysteriously to vast proportions, and rose towards +the ceiling. The room appeared to be turning round. Enid grasped the +bedclothes to save herself from falling, then sank backwards till her +head rested amongst the dainty collars and cuffs spread out upon the +coverlet. + +When she came to herself, she was lying at full length upon the bed, +from which the things which littered it had been removed. Someone held +a bottle of strong smelling-salts to her nostrils, and with the other +hand waved over her a palm-leaf fan. Enid looked up, and met the kind, +anxious gaze of Mrs. Marian. + +"Ah, she is better—she is coming round!" she observed in a low voice. + +"What is it?" asked Enid, trying to raise herself. "Why—why, I must +have fainted. I never did it before." + +"And you must never do it again," said Mrs. Marian smiling. "I am +grieved to think that we have let you come to this. We have been +thinking so much of Maud that we have forgotten to take proper care of +you, my poor child." + +"Oh no, indeed; it is not that—it is not your fault at all," said Enid +faintly. + +"I fear it is; I blame myself very much," replied Mrs. Marian. "How +your mother would reproach me if she knew!" + +The mention of her mother was too much for Enid at that moment. "Oh, I +wish mother were here!" she said, and began to sob. + +"Now, don't cry, there's a good child, but drink this, and you'll feel +better directly!" said a brisk voice on the other side of her. + +And there, to Enid's surprise, stood Miss Strutt with a glass, which +she at once held to the patient's lips in a decided fashion it was +impossible to resist. Enid drank the cordial, and felt better. She even +made a feeble effort to rise, but Miss Strutt at once put her back upon +her pillow, saying— + +"No, indeed; you will do nothing of the kind. You will please to lie +perfectly still whilst I finish your packing. I think I know how to +pack as well as you do." + +"A great deal better, I have no doubt," said Enid. "But, Miss Strutt—" + +She grasped her friend's hand, and drew her close to her, then +whispered—"You have heard what has happened?" + +"Yes, my dear child, I have heard, and I understand. Oh, you need not +mind me. You must not grieve yet, Enid, for I hope it is not so bad as +you fear. I have been to the house, and they say that the doctor speaks +hopefully. He was stunned, and is still unconscious, and his arm is +broken; but they hope there is no more serious injury." + +But Enid grew so white as she heard this, that Miss Strutt hastened +to add, in a rallying tone, "Come Enid, you must not let a broken arm +frighten you! Think what a hero he has shown himself; and remember +that a man cannot be a hero for nothing. You ought to be proud of your +friend." + +A faint flush appeared on Enid's face as her heart thrilled in response +to Miss Strutt's words. + +"Yes, I am proud of him," she thought, whilst glad tears came to her +eyes, and her heart found courage to hope that all would yet be well. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AT THE RUINS OF TUSCULUM + +JUNE—a glorious month in Italy—was in its full tide of beauty at +Frascati. In Rome the heat was growing unbearable, but fresh breezes +still tempered the heat of the sun on the slopes of the Alban Hills, +and in the gardens of the villas were many shady nooks in which to pass +the hotter hours of the day. + +More than a month had gone by since Mr. and Mrs. Marian, satisfied +that Maud, with her companions, was likely to do well in her temporary +abode at Frascati, had started on their journey back to England. And +Maud had been rapidly advancing in health and strength ever since. The +strong mountain air wrought wonders for her. She enjoyed the sunshine, +the flowers, the glorious prospects of mountains, and plains, and +changeful sky, with the strange rapture one feels who has been brought +back from the shore of death to find a new preciousness in every simple +joy of earth. She developed an amazing appetite, and thought she had +never tasted anything so good as the wholesome country fare on which +they lived. She slept like a child, not at night only, but in the +warm noontide; and her beauty came back to her with somewhat of the +bloom of childhood, and a new grace of expression, at which Enid often +marvelled. It was as if there were some happy secret written in Maud's +eyes. + +Enid had not observed this look until after Maud's reconciliation with +her father; but since then she had been struck with an increasing +change in her cousin. She, who had before been so restlessly energetic, +constantly bent upon doing something or having something, and for +ever conceiving new projects for the future, was now calm and quiet, +content, apparently, to rest in the present and let the future take +care of itself. + +"She is so gentle and easy to please, that if it were not clear that +she is gaining strength, I should be afraid she was going to die," said +Enid to herself one day. + +Yet it was not apathy which possessed Maud, for she entered heartily +into every plan made by the others, and seemed to enjoy each hour as +it passed. Enid wondered sometimes if the two or three letters which +her cousin had received since her illness from Mr. Sidney Althorp had +anything to do with her happy frame of mind; but Maud said little about +them, and Enid did not care to question her. + +And Enid herself? The change was proving good for her also. Her colour +had come back, and the sturdy health she had lost. The terrible +pressure of anxiety which, on the eve of her departure from Rome, had +threatened to prostrate her utterly, had happily not lasted long. +Better and better accounts of Julius Dakin had reached her. He had +escaped, almost miraculously as it seemed, without any fatal injury. +He was recovering better than could be expected from the shock he had +received; and the broken arm was doing well. The last news the girls +had of him was that he had removed with his mother from the hot city to +a charming villa at Albano. + +So Enid was relieved of care on his behalf. Yet her mind was not so +calm as her cousin's. She could not rest in the present as Maud did. +It seemed as if the restlessness which had left her cousin had entered +into her. It irked her to sit for hours in the soft, deep shade of +ilexes, even though there opened out before her a lovely landscape, and +the sun shone on a foreground of brilliant flowers, with vineyards and +olive groves beyond, and the shadows of passing clouds played on the +mountain slopes, and far away in the distance the pure, snow-clad peaks +of the Apennines rose against the sky. + +It was well that Miss Strutt was always there to keep them company. Her +spirits never seemed to vary, nor was there any end to her resources +for the entertainment of herself and the others. She sketched, she +read, she talked and knitted; she taught them games, and after a while, +she beguiled Maud into taking up her painting again. And Maud, as Enid +had foretold, began to work again with new power and fresh delight, +though at the same time with a far humbler opinion of her own ability. +She was not too proud now to ask advice of others; and Miss Strutt, +without posing as her instructor, managed to warn her of the faults +into which she had fallen, and to show her how they might be conquered. + +Enid too made several sketches during the long, warm days. In the +villas, or amongst the ruins of the ancient city of Tusculum on the +hill above, charmingly picturesque subjects were to be found. But Enid +was conscious that her interest in her work was not what it should be, +and that she was not doing her best. She was vexed with herself that it +was so, but could not command the lacking inspiration. Sometimes she +felt quite disheartened, and would lay aside her brushes with a sense +of disgust at her own weakness. But the restlessness which made it hard +to apply herself to anything continued. Was it because Albano was but a +few miles away, and there was the chance that any day someone who was +staying there might appear at Frascati? + +But the days passed on, and nothing occurred to break their even +course. Maud was now so well that their return to England began to +be talked of as a near possibility. Enid could not understand her +feelings as she looked forward. Could it be that she, who had longed +so passionately to be once more with her mother and dear ones, now +shrank from the prospect of returning to them? No, it was not so; but +she could not help feeling that it would be hard, very hard, to go away +without seeing once more one who had become a friend to her since she +left her home. + +One lovely morning the girls and Miss Strutt started forth early, +carrying their luncheon with them. They intended to pass the whole day +at Tusculum, as they still called the site of the ancient town of which +but a few ruins now remain. Miss Strutt had begun a sketch there which +she was anxious to finish. Enid and Maud also meant to sketch, and they +set out with the idea of being very industrious. + +As the distance was rather beyond Maud's walking powers, a strong, +sleek donkey had been hired to carry her. She made much fun of her +humble steed, and professed that it hurt her pride to mount it. + +"'I feel real mean,' as Miss Amory would say," she remarked as they +began to ascend the steep, stony road which rises from the piazza of +Frascati, and winds upward all the way to Tusculum. "It is a mercy that +the tourist season is over, for I would not for the world that any of +my acquaintance should see me mounted on this little beast." + +"And yet I can assure you that you ride it with great dignity," said +Miss Strutt. "She looks rather imposing than otherwise—does she not, +Enid?" + +"Yes, indeed," replied Enid. "If only that hat were not so dreadfully +modern, I should say she looked picturesque." + +"I had better take off my hat and drape a blue shawl over my head, +like the pictures one sees of Mary on the flight into Egypt," said +Maud laughingly. "Did you ever see that picture of Fra Angelica's, +at Florence, in which he represents Mary sitting perfectly erect on +her donkey, and holding her Babe, also perfectly erect, up high with +both hands? I am certain that if any woman attempted to ride a donkey +holding a baby in that fashion, she would inevitably fall off, unless +indeed she had been trained in a circus." + +"I have not seen it." said Enid. "You forget that I have never stayed +at Florence. I long to see the Fra Angelicas; they must be so lovely, +in spite of such defects." + +"They are indeed," said Miss Strutt. "Fra Angelica's mastery of colour +was wonderful; and still more striking than his colours are the +character, dignity, and sweetness of the countenances he has painted. +The errors he made are of trivial importance compared with such +results. He lived in such a narrow, secluded way, that of necessity, he +knew little of the practical details of life." + +"But his life was so beautiful." said Enid. "It was that which made his +work what it is." + +"You are right," said Miss Strutt. "The gentle holy faces he painted +reflected the purity and sweetness of his own heart." + +"If that be so," said Maud thoughtfully, "goodness is the greatest +thing of all, and art's highest inspiration. And yet how little is +thought of goodness in comparison with cleverness! How often one hears +it said, 'Oh, So-and-so is a very good man, of course; but—' as if a +man's goodness were of no value." + +"That is the world's valuation," said Miss Strutt. "But God would +have us know that character is the chief thing in human life, and a +man's work is the outcome of his character. 'Keep thy heart with all +diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.' 'As a man thinketh in +his heart, so is he.'" + +"Yet some men have done great things who were not good," said Enid. + +"True, the fire of genius has been kindled from below, but it does not +burn with so pure and bright a flame as that which is drawn from heaven. + + "'Every good and perfect gift is from above.' + +"Depend upon it that is true of all art. Genius ever rises and falls +with character. The life of Michael Angelo, of Raphael, of Giotto, of +Andrea del Sarto, all point that moral in various ways." + +"If Browning's poem is true," said Enid, "Andrea del Sarto's work was +marred by the influence of his wife, who valued his art only because +it brought the gold she coveted for the gratification of her luxurious +tastes." + +"But it is only the very great and strong who can follow 'art for art's +sake,'" said Maud half impatiently. "It is natural to want something +for oneself—not gold necessarily, but admiration, honour, fame. Most +workers desire these." + +They had turned into a narrow paved alley, the remains of an old Roman +road, which, shaded by thick flexes, was delightfully cool and shady at +this hour. Enid did not reply to her cousin's words. She had paused, +and was looking back to where the wider road they had quitted gleamed +white in the sunshine. Miss Strutt turned to see what was engaging her +attention, then said— + +"Why, Maud, I am afraid you will not after all escape the gaze of the +British tourist. There is a carriage driving along the road behind us, +and its occupants have a very English look." + +"You don't say so!" cried Maud, looking round in affected dismay. Then +she added, with a droll imitation of Miss Amory's accent, "Oh, I guess +they're Americans, and they can't drive up this path, anyway." + +The carriage passed out of sight. Enid walked on without saying a +word. It was growing warm, and the path was steep. No one felt much +inclination to talk now. + +The carriage road led to a point not far from that at which the +bridle-path terminated. So it happened that when Maud, who was in +advance of the others, rode round a bend of the path, and the old +amphitheatre came in view, she saw a gentleman and lady seated on the +broken wall above it. The gentleman came forward, saying merrily— + +"Miss Marian, I declare! How charming! Allow me to congratulate you on +the idyllic appearance you present." + +"Mr. Dakin!" she exclaimed. "Is it really you? I am glad to see you. +Yes, indeed, you may laugh at me and my humble steed; but I am very +glad to see you, though I was saying just now how sorry I should be to +meet any of my acquaintance. Are you better?" + +"Oh yes; I am all right now," he answered, though his looks hardly +confirmed his words. "And you?" + +"I am as well as possible, thank you." + +"It delights me to hear you say so," said Mrs. Dakin, advancing. +"Indeed, you look quite yourself again—very different from when I saw +you last." + +At this moment Enid and Miss Strutt came in sight. Julius's eyes had +already sought them impatiently. He went forward and greeted them +warmly. Enid's colour faded a little as she shook hands with him. It +was a shock to her to see him looking so ill. She felt as if she had +hardly realised before how seriously injured he had been. But he looked +happy enough, nevertheless. There was the same merry laughing look in +his eyes. + +"Are you really getting strong?" asked Miss Strutt. + +"Indeed I am. There is nothing the matter with me now, except the +inconvenience of a useless arm," and he pointed to the sling he wore. + +"Ah! But he is not good for much yet," said his mother. "He has been +wanting to come over here before this, but I dreaded the fatigue of +the long drive for him. We drove over last evening, and put up at the +hotel. We started out early this morning to find you; but early as we +were, you had gone out before we arrived. Your landlady told us of your +plans for the day, so we thought we would come and picnic here too." + +"How delightful of you!" cried Maud. "There is nothing so nice as an +impromptu picnic, and there could not be a better place for one than +this." + +So this was what became of the day they had meant to devote to +sketching. No one save Miss Strutt did any work. They ate their +luncheon seated in the cool fragrant shade of a pine grove, looking +down through an opening in the trees on a glorious green valley +enclosed by purple mountain slopes with snowy peaks above. Afterwards, +Maud and Enid, with Julius, leisurely explored the ruins, finally +ascending to the summit of the hill, which in the Middle Ages was +crowned by a castle, the outline of which may still be traced. + +The view from this height is magnificent beyond description. Below lies +the broad expanse of the Campagna stretching away to the sea, bounded +by the Sabine range on the one hand, and the Alban Hills on the other. +Seating themselves in the shelter of the castle rock, the three gazed +long on the fascinating scene presented to their eyes. There were +clouds in the sky, and changes of weather were visible on the surface +of the plain. Sunshine brightened the verdure in one spot, and a dark +cloud cast its deep shadow on another. Far away a shower was falling, +appearing in the distance like a lovely silvery mist. Below lay the +white villas and wooded heights of Frascati; to the left the village +of Rocca di Papa crowned its picturesque crag; Monte Cavo rose above; +whilst more distant, Castel Gandolfo, Marino, and Grottaferrata were +visible. A little beyond Frascati could be seen the old brown buildings +of a monastery. A long green avenue led up to it, and presently Enid +perceived a lonely figure walking along the path between the trees. + +"It is surely a woman," she said. "But how strange for a woman to be +walking there alone!" + +"You are mistaken," said Julius, looking at it through his field-glass. +"It is an old Carthusian monk—one of the few who still remain at the +monastery, for their order is suppressed." + +"Poor old fellow!" said Maud, taking the glass Julius offered her. "I +always feel sorry for them when they are suppressed. How picturesque he +looks in his white frock and cowl amongst the trees! I wish he would +stay there and let me sketch him." + +"Suppose we go and ask him to do so," said Julius rising. "I am afraid +it is time we were moving." + +So they descended the hill, lingering awhile, however, amongst the +ruins at its base. Julius called Enid to look at the remains of a +curious old reservoir, and she paused to examine it. Maud, however, did +not stay to look at it, and Enid presently became aware that her cousin +was many paces ahead of her. She tried to quicken her steps, but Julius +seemed indisposed to hurry. + +"Let us sit down for a few minutes," he said, pointing to a low, broad +stone which lay in the shade of a pine. + +Enid glanced at him. He looked tired; she remembered that he was not +strong, and sat down. + +"You are really getting strong?" she said. + +"I have not a doubt of it," he replied. + +"I have often thought," she said, "how brave you were to risk your life +like that." + +"Not at all," he returned; but he looked pleased at her words. "Anyone +would have done the same. You certainly would have done it in my place." + +"I am not so sure of that," she said. + +"I am quite sure of it," he replied. "I believe it was you who made me +do it. The thought of you has been like a good inspiration to me ever +since I have known you." + +Silence followed these words. Julius was feeling in the pocket of his +coat. He drew out his pocket-book, opened it, and said to Enid— + +"I have something here which I obtained when I was in England. I value +it very highly, and I want to show it to you." + +"What is it?" asked Enid eagerly. "You have told me nothing about your +visit to England." + +"No, but I will; and there is a great deal to tell," said Julius. Then +he showed her what he held in his hand. + +Enid uttered a cry of astonishment. + +[Illustration] + +"That!" she cried. "That! How in the world did you get it?" + +"I stole it from your sister Alice," he said calmly. + +Enid's astonishment was beyond words. He held in his hand an old faded +"carte de visite" representing herself and her sister Alice. They had +been taken thus together for a freak some time ago. Alice was sitting +stiffly on a chair, and Enid knelt beside her. They were posed very +awkwardly, and the photography was wretched; yet Enid's likeness was +fairly good. + +"Alice!" said Enid. "You have seen Alice!" + +"Yes, I have seen Alice," he said, "and Clara, and Katie, and May, and +Jack, and Cecil." + +"You have been to my home?" + +"I have indeed," he answered meekly. "I hope you do not object. I +wanted very much to make the acquaintance of your father and mother, so +I went down to Devonport and called on them. And I must say that they +received me very kindly, especially when they learned that I came from +Rome, and had but lately seen you." + +Then, as he met Enid's wondering look, his manner changed, and he said +in a low, tender tone— + +"Do you not understand why I wished to see your father? I wanted to +confess to him that I had sought to win his daughter's heart. I wanted +to obtain his sanction, in case I ever dared to speak to her of my love +again. Because—will you be angry with me if I confess it?—I had begun +to cherish the hope that you had perhaps mistaken your own heart when +you sent me away that day." + +He paused, perhaps expecting a reply; but Enid had nothing to say. She +sat with her face turned from him. Her manner was not encouraging, but +he found courage to ask— + +"Don't you want to hear what your father said?" + +Enid made a sign of assent. + +"He did not seem to like the idea of giving you up to me—I must own +that; but he said that if it would be for your happiness, he would not +refuse to do so. Enid, have you nothing to say to me? Cannot you give +me a little hope?" + +Enid had something to say to him, and though her words were few, they +were such as made her lover unspeakably happy. + +"Enid," he said, a little later, "I have not told you of my plans for +the future. Do you know I am going back to England in the autumn? I +have promised to work there with my uncle for a year, and do my best to +acquire good business habits. After that I shall perhaps come back to +help my father at Rome—that is, if I can persuade you to accompany me." + +"Oh, not in a year!" said Enid. "Do you think that after being away +from home so long I shall be satisfied to stay there only one year?" + +"Well, well," he said, "we need not decide that now. I suppose we had +better join the others. My mother will be fancying that I have fainted +away if I do not soon appear." + +"I am afraid," said Enid, "that your mother will think you might have +made a better choice." + +"Oh, of course," he said, looking at her quizzically. "I might perhaps +have won Miss Amory, the rich American heiress, you know." Then in a +changed tone added, "You dear one! When my mother knows you better, she +will learn that you are worth more than all the heiresses in the world. +But there she is, looking for us. We will go and show her how very very +well I am." + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +TWO ARTISTS SPOILED + +DR. MILDMAY drove up to the door of his house in Devonport, alighted +with extraordinary quickness from his carriage, and hurried up the +steps. Opening the door with his latchkey, he entered the house, then +paused for a moment in the hall, a little surprised at the quietness +which reigned there. He looked into the dining-room. It was empty; +but the room bore a festive air. Blossoming plants stood on the +window-sills, and the loveliest flowers of summer adorned the table, +which was laid for a substantial tea, with a display of good things +very tempting to a hungry man. + +Dr. Mildmay glanced round for a moment, then returned to the hall. His +daughter Alice was descending the stairs. + +"Has she not come?" he asked, with rather a disappointed air. + +"Not yet; the train must be very late," replied Alice, who had been for +the third time to Enid's room, to make sure that all was as it should +be, and there was nothing she could add to make the room look prettier +and more home-like in the eyes of the returned traveller. "Clara, +Katie, and the boys are all gone to the station." + +"Then I'll go round there too," said the doctor, turning to the +house-door. + +"Take care you do not miss her on the way," cried Alice; but her father +was already in his carriage. + +A door behind Alice opened, and Mrs. Mildmay, with a flushed, excited +face, looked forth. + +"Was that your father?" she asked. + +"Yes, he was here," Alice said; "but he has driven off to the station +now." + +"Ah, well, it is better!" returned Mrs. Mildmay. "Men never like to sit +still and wait." + +She looked as if such an attitude were not easy to herself. Alice knew +that her mother had been constantly on the move for the last half-hour, +and she feared she would excite herself into one of her nervous +headaches if Enid did not soon appear. + +"If they should have started from the station and come by the new road, +father will miss them," said Alice, "for he always prefers the old way." + +At that moment, her ears caught the sound of a vehicle drawing up +before the house. She flew to the door, and there stood a cab loaded +with luggage, and Enid's happy face was at the window. The doctor's +carriage drove up almost at the same instant. He had seen the cab, and +had driven after it. + +So the hour for which Enid had so often longed had come at last, and +she was at home once more. Her mother held her as if she would never +let her go from her again. There was nought but joy in the reunion for +Enid; but in her mother's heart was a painful sense that her child had +only come back to her for a time, and she felt how hard it would be to +give her away even to the best of husbands. But mothers have to endure +such trials, and they bring their compensations. Mrs. Mildmay was not +too selfish to rejoice in the prospect of a happy future for her child. +As for her brothers and sisters, they could not make enough of Enid on +her arrival. She had become a heroine in their eyes from the day she +started on her travels, and her betrothal to a Roman gentleman seemed a +fitting culmination to her fortunes. + +[Illustration] + +As they crowded around her, asking questions which it was impossible to +answer because they would all talk at once, Enid had a fleeting sense +of pity for Maud Marian, who missed so much through being an only child. + +"Enid, Enid, did you see the Pope?" + +"Can you speak Italian, Enid?" + +"How many pictures have you painted?" + +"Do tell us what the Queen looked like when she spoke to you!" + +"Is it true that in Italy everyone eats macaroni?" + +"Did you see the Colosseum by moonlight?" + +"Can Mr. Dakin use his arm yet? When is he coming here again, and shall +we have to call him Julius?" + +"You had better wait till he comes, and ask him what he thinks about +it," said Enid laughingly, in reply to this last question. + +Then her father interposed, and said that Enid was tired, and they must +not ask her any more questions till she had had her tea. + +There was not much quiet for her, however, till the younger ones had +been sent to play in the garden, and Enid, accompanied by her mother, +withdrew to her own room, ostensibly to attend to the unpacking of her +trunk, but in reality that they might have the confidential talk for +which each was longing. Though Enid's letters had been long and full, +they had not satisfied her mother's heart. She too had many questions +to put, for there were various things she wished to have explained. +Together they reviewed the course of the past nine months, and each had +much to tell. + +"You found your cousin a little difficult to get on with at first?" +said Mrs. Mildmay. + +"Well, yes, I did," said Enid frankly. "As you warned me, she was +somewhat of a spoiled child; but she is so very different now that I +do not wish to remember anything about that. Indeed, it was in a great +measure my own fault that we fell out sometimes. If I had had more +patience, it need not have happened." + +"Enid, I have wondered many times—you will not mind my asking you?—why +it was you refused Julius Dakin the first time he asked you to be his +wife. Were you afraid that your father and I would not approve?" + +"No; it was not that, mother." + +"You did not know your own heart?" + +Enid shook her head, colouring deeply. + +"You did not know of anything against him?" There was latent anxiety in +Mrs. Mildmay's tone. + +"No, mother; I always liked him from the first time I saw him. I used +to think he was not manly enough; but I know now that I was mistaken. +Still, it was not on that account that I refused him—it was because of +Maud." + +"Because of Maud!" repeated Mrs. Mildmay, in a tone of astonishment. + +"Yes," said Enid; "it was foolish of me, but I fancied that Maud cared +for him. And, indeed, she has told me since that she was greatly +attracted by him; but it was not such a serious affair as I imagined. +We were so much with the Dakins; I thought she would feel it so." + +"And you gave him up for fear of hurting Maud's feelings? My dear, I +cannot think you were justified in acting so. Were not his feelings to +be considered in the matter? You ought to have remembered that it was +not your own happiness alone that you sacrificed for the sake of Maud. +Though it was noble of you, child—not many girls would have done it." + +"Oh, mother, you must not say that! My motives were far from noble. You +do not know all that had gone before. Maud had said things about Julius +which had stung me sorely. I think pride moved me to some extent. I was +very sorry about it afterwards, and yet I never felt that I could have +acted differently." + +"Well, all's well that ends well," said Mrs. Mildmay cheerfully. "It +made me proud to hear how Julius spoke of you, Enid. He said you had +saved him from the misery of a useless, wasted life." + +"Did he say that?" exclaimed Enid, colouring. "Oh, mother, I don't +think it was just my doing!" + +"He said so," returned Mrs. Mildmay. "He told us he used to be an idle, +good-for-nothing fellow; but he had determined to take a fresh start, +and make himself a good man of business, in order that he might help +his father, who is beginning to feel his burdens of responsibility +weigh heavily on him. But if he becomes a good man of business, as I +believe he will, he will not be a mere business man." + +"I hope not," said Enid fervently. "Oh, what a solemn thing life is! I +have felt that so much since Julius and I have belonged to each other. +It almost frightens me to think what influence we may exert on the life +of another for good or for evil." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Mildmay. "Our personal influence is a great +talent entrusted to us, which we can only use aright by the help of +Him who gave it. When I think of the tremendous consequences that may +depend on the way we shape our lives, I wonder at those who are content +to live as if life were given to us only for our own entertainment." + +"And there is always so much sorrow in the world," said Enid, +thoughtfully. "I told you about Miss Strutt, mother, in my letters." + +"Yes, dear; I remember—the poor little Scotch artist who has known so +many troubles." + +"And has borne them so bravely," said Enid. "Her worst trouble is over +now. When we were at Florence, she was summoned to Edinburgh to see +her brother. There was a change in him, and the doctors at the asylum +thought he would not live much longer. She travelled night and day +to reach him ere he passed away, and she arrived in time. His reason +came back to him for a brief interval before he died, and he knew her, +and uttered her name. She wrote and told me all about it. She is so +thankful that she saw him calm and peaceful, and that he is now at +rest." + +"Poor little woman, she well may be!" said Mrs. Mildmay. "That was a +terrible trial." + +"Yet, in spite of all she has suffered, Miss Strutt is one of the best +women I have ever met. You would think that such troubles as hers might +well make her gloomy and bitter; but they seem to have had quite the +contrary effect. You cannot think how good and unselfish she is." + +"I am sure, from what you have told me of her, that she must be very +unselfish. I should like to know her." + +"I hope you will some day. If—as seems probable—my home, at some future +time, will be in Rome, you will have to come and see me there. Oh, +you need not shake your head! I mean to show you the Forum, and the +Colosseum, and the Palaces of the Cæsars, some day." + +Mrs. Mildmay's face brightened at the idea, but she shook her head. + +Just then there was a tap at the door, and Alice's voice asked +permission to enter. + +"Have you finished unpacking?" she asked, as she came in. + +"I have not even begun to unpack," said Enid. + +"I thought as much," returned Alice, briskly. "I knew you would not do +anything till I came." + +She attacked the trunk at once, and began lifting out the things. + +"What is this?" she asked, as she came upon a soft, thick bundle, +striped in many colours. + +"That is a Roman blanket," said Enid. "I brought it for mother." + +"The very thing!" exclaimed Alice, whilst Mrs. Mildmay uttered warm +thanks. "It will do to cover her when she lies down, and if we arrange +it along the sofa when it is unoccupied, it will hide how shabby the +covering is." + +"The colours are lovely," said Mrs. Mildmay. + +"There are all sorts of lovely things to be bought in Rome," said Enid. +"I wish you could have seen the draperies Maud bought for her studio." + +"Oh, I do want to see the Studio Mariano!" cried Alice. "Do you think +Maud would be willing to take me as her companion when she goes to Rome +again?" + +"You know you would not go if she asked you. However, she is not likely +to go there again—at least, not to remain any length of time." + +"Not go again!" repeated Alice, in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me +that she is content to live at home with her stepmother?" + +"Yes, for a little while—until she goes to a home of her own." + +"A home of her own!" exclaimed Alice. "Is she too going to be married?" + +"She is," said Enid, enjoying her sister's astonishment. "I thought it +would be so; but she only told me late last night. Indeed, I believe it +was only settled yesterday." + +"And who is the happy man?" + +"Mr. Sidney Althorp." + +"Why, that is the man you said she disliked so much because he was +always finding fault with her!" + +"Even so," said Enid, smiling; "but I doubt whether she ever really +disliked him. I am sure he had always a strong influence over her, +though she tried hard to resist his influence. I think it was because +she cared for him that she resented his hinting at her faults." + +"I don't know about that," said Alice. "I think I should dislike a man +who was always finding fault with me. Pray, does Julius find fault with +you?" + +"I cannot say that he does," replied Enid, blushing. "But men are +different, you know." + +"And women, too, if there are some who can like those who find fault +with them," said Alice. + +"But he did not find fault with her for the sake of finding fault," +said Enid; "it was because he cared for her so much, and believed in +her, that he ventured to tell her of her faults. She must have felt +that all along." + +Alice shook her head. She could not see that that made any difference. + +"When Maud was recovering from her illness, I began to see that her +heart was turning towards Sidney Althorp. She spoke of him in a +different way. But Maud is very proud; she will not show her feelings +if she can help it. I wish you could have heard the way in which she +told me of her engagement, half pretending that she did not greatly +care for Mr. Althorp, but had accepted him for the sake of getting away +from her stepmother. And yet I really believe she is beginning to love +Mrs. Marian. What is the matter, Alice? You look quite disturbed." + +"Indeed, I have received a shock!" wailed Alice. "Oh dear! Oh dear! Two +artists spoiled, and the Studio Mariano a thing of the past!" + + + + THE END + + + + OXFORD: HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77861 *** diff --git a/77861-h/77861-h.htm b/77861-h/77861-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc3cfcd --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/77861-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9324 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Maud Marian, Artist or The Studio Mariano │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 {font-size: 1.17em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.poem { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + padding: 20px 0; + text-align: left; + width: 555px; + } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77861 ***</div> + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>THE GIRLS OWN BOOKSHELF</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h1>MAUD MARIAN<br> +<br> +ARTIST<br> +</h1> + +<p class="t3"> +<br> +OR<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +<b>THE STUDIO MARIANO</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +EGLANTON THORNE<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +AUTHOR OF<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +"THE OLD WORCESTER JUG," "ALDYTH'S INHERITANCE,"<br> +"THE MANSE OF GLEN CLUNIE," ETC.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +56 PATERNOSTER ROW AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +Oxford<br> +<br> +HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAPTER</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. "I CARE FOR ART"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. A STARTLING PROPOSAL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. AT ROME</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. THE INAUGURATION OF THE STUDIO</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. NEW FRIENDS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. ENID'S MASTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. MRS. DAKIN'S RECEPTION</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. COMPLICATIONS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. A PASSIONATE ACT</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. A SERIOUS ADVENTURE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. SEARCHING FOR THE LOST</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_13">XIII. AT THE VILLA MATTEI</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_14">XIV. AN UNLOOKED-FOR HONOUR</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_15">XV. VARIOUS THREADS OF ROMANCE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_16">XVI. MAUD RECEIVES STARTLING NEWS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_17">XVII. FEVER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_18">XVIII. A HARD DUTY</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_19">XIX. A HERO</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_20">XX. AT THE RUINS OF TUSCULUM</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_21">XXI. TWO ARTISTS SPOILED</a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>MAUD MARIAN, ARTIST</b><br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +"I CARE FOR ART"<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MR. MARIAN and his daughter, separated by the length of a large table +elegantly decorated with flowers, plate, and glass, were dining +together. It was seldom they dined thus alone, and Maud had never +before taken the head of the table; but the butler had deemed it +right she should now do so, and had set her place there. Only to-day, +however, had Maud become Miss Marian, and mistress of the house.</p> + +<p>Up to this time, her father's unmarried sister had kept his house and +taken loving care of his child—for Maud's mother had died when she was +too young to retain any remembrance of her. But now the Aunt Helen whom +Maud warmly loved was Miss Marian no longer. Some one else had had the +audacity to seek and to win her tender interest, and she had gone to +brighten the home of a gentleman with three motherless children whose +lack of a mother's care had strongly appealed to Helen Marian's loving +heart. All her life she had been used to caring for others, for she had +not been twenty when she came to keep her brother's house. Being so +young she had perhaps not been the wisest guardian her niece could have +had; but she had made the child happy, and as she grew up, Maud found +in her aunt a companion who seemed almost as young and as full of life +as herself.</p> + +<p>It was not surprising that Maud should feel herself injured by +her aunt's marriage. She hated the idea of missing her cheerful +companionship, and foresaw, moreover, sundry inconveniences to herself +which might arise from the event. Maud was not in the least gratified +by the new dignity she had attained. She had ambition, but it was +not of so commonplace an order as to be satisfied with petty social +distinctions. However others might regard her, in her own eyes Maud +Marian was a superior person. So, now that the excitement of the +wedding was over, and the bride had departed, she was disposed to be +silent, and nurse a sense of grievance.</p> + +<p>"My dear Maud," exclaimed Mr. Marian at last, when for some minutes the +servant had been moving noiselessly between them, and scarce a sound +had broken the stillness, "have you absolutely nothing to say? Come, +come, my dear, don't look so melancholy. To see you, one would think we +had had a funeral here to-day instead of a wedding."</p> + +<p>"I cannot see that a wedding is much more lively," said Maud languidly; +"they both mean loss."</p> + +<p>"Do they?" said Mr. Marian. "I don't think Hamilton would agree with +you about that. It strikes me that this wedding means gain for him, +most decidedly."</p> + +<p>"Yes, at our expense," said Maud bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you must not grudge him his happiness! He has had a sad home +for these last few years, and his poor little children need some one to +look after them."</p> + +<p>"He should have had a good housekeeper," said Maud. "For my part, I do +not approve of second marriages. There ought to be a law forbidding +them."</p> + +<p>Mr. Marian smiled to hear his young daughter express herself with such +decision. He looked across the table at her with amusement in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is a good thing the government of the country is not in your hands, +my dear," he observed, "for I fear you would make tyrannical use of +your power. Since the wedding is now an accomplished fact, we must make +the best of it. I congratulate myself that everything went off well. +Helen looked as well as possible, and as for you—I think I never saw +you in a more becoming gown."</p> + +<p>At last he had succeeded in bringing a smile to her face. No woman, +however superior, is above feeling pleasure when her gown is praised, +and Maud prided herself on her taste in dress.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad you like it," she said, glancing down with a gratified +air at her attire. "I really think Madame Adolphin has carried out my +ideas quite successfully for once."</p> + +<p>The wedding, which was supposed to be a quiet one, had taken place in +the afternoon. Maud was the only bridesmaid, and she still wore the +gown she had had made for the occasion. It was simple enough, being all +of white, without a touch of colour; but the material was soft Indian +silk, and what seemed to be pearls were strewn about the bodice, which +was cut low at the throat, and finished with a tucker of deep lace, a +style much affected by Maud, and exceedingly becoming to her, since she +had a pretty neck and a skin of delicate whiteness.</p> + +<p>She was a girl concerning whose claims to beauty people held very +different views. Her features were irregular, but small and piquant. +She had hair of the warm tawny hue which many of the old painters have +given to their Madonnas, and she wore it loosely coiled at the nape of +her neck with an artistic carelessness which was very becoming. Since +her complexion was of the dazzling fairness which seems generally to +accompany hair of that rare hue, it will be seen that the tall, slender +form of Maud Marian did not lack impressiveness.</p> + +<p>"Of course you will miss your aunt at first," said Mr. Marian, wishing +to console his daughter; "but Kensington is not a great way off. You +can drive there as often as you like, and Helen will come to see us +occasionally, I suppose, though she will be more tied to her home than +you are."</p> + +<p>Maud looked at her father for a few moments ere she made any reply. +Then she said with apparent carelessness, her eyes on the bread which +she was crumbling on the cloth, "I fear you will miss Aunt Helen more +than I this winter, papa. You forget that I am going abroad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Marian looked up quickly, his countenance expressing the utmost +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Going abroad! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot have forgotten, papa, that you promised that I should have +another winter in Rome."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, it was months ago that we talked about that—before there +was any thought of your aunt's marrying."</p> + +<p>"I cannot see how that alters the case," said Maud calmly. "A promise +is a promise."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that I really promised? Even if I did, it seems to me +that the change which has taken place here would justify me in setting +aside that promise. Surely, Maud, you cannot earnestly propose to +yourself to leave me to pass the winter alone!"</p> + +<p>"It would only be for six months, papa, and you are always so engaged +with business that you would not miss me. You do not think how dull I +should be here by myself."</p> + +<p>"It shall be your own fault if you are dull," said her father eagerly. +"You are mistress of the house now, and you shall invite whom you +please. Perhaps I have devoted myself too exclusively to business in +the past; but the pressure is over now, I trust, and you shall teach me +to attend to my social duties."</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, if you think I should care for that sort of thing, you are +quite mistaken," said Maud languidly. "All I care for is Art. The +lessons I took last winter, the hours I spent in picture galleries and +churches, will all be thrown away if I do not have another season of +hard work. And you know how I have been counting on going back to Rome +and setting up a studio there."</p> + +<p>"Why must you go to Rome?" asked her father. "Cannot you have a studio +here? I am sure there is room enough in this house."</p> + +<p>Maud smiled faintly. "You do not understand, papa," she said with an +air of superiority.</p> + +<p>"No, I do not understand," returned Mr. Marian with some warmth. "I +confess I cannot understand how an only child can so contemplate +leaving her father and her home. I should have thought a sense of duty +might have withheld her from doing so."</p> + +<p>The colour deepened in Maud's cheeks; she bit her lips in sudden +irritation; but she had tolerable self-control, and when she spoke it +was to say coldly, "I am afraid we have different ideas of duty. I, for +my part, regard it as a sacred duty to cultivate what little talent I +have for painting."</p> + +<p>For a few moments Mr. Marian was absolutely unable to reply. He was +startled, as he had been startled once or twice before, by the calm +assurance with which his daughter could maintain a right to whatever +she desired.</p> + +<p>When he spoke again, he approached the subject from another side, and +Maud felt that she had virtually gained her point.</p> + +<p>"I do not see how you are to go to Rome," he said. "You cannot go with +the Middletons as before, for they are not going abroad this winter. +Mrs. Middleton told me so this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I know that," said Maud composedly. "But I am not dependent on the +Middletons now. I made many friends when I was in Rome last winter."</p> + +<p>"But it is impossible that you should go alone. Indeed, I will not hear +of such a thing," said her father.</p> + +<p>"Then I must have a companion," said Maud. "She will be a bore; but if +you insist upon it, I must get one. It is a pity you cannot come with +me to Rome yourself. I wish you would take a partner—then you could get +free sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall take a partner before long," said her father—"a +young man of strong character and energy, fitted to succeed me in the +business. But it is early to talk of that. I am not an old fellow yet."</p> + +<p>Nor was he, though the arduous, unremitting toil by which he had won +his wealth had given him the look of age. No one, judging by his +appearance, would have believed that he had not yet seen fifty years.</p> + +<p>"It would be wise to take a partner soon," said Maud, "for I am sure +you need more rest."</p> + +<p>She was thinking of the man whom she believed her father meant to make +his partner; but she did not name Sidney Althorp, for she and her +father were wont to disagree with regard to his merits.</p> + +<p>"I have a suggestion to make," said her father suddenly. "Suppose you +put off your going to Rome for another year—by which time I may be in a +position to accompany you."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, no, thank you," said Maud, laughing; "I know how that would +be. At the end of the year, you would ask me to wait another, and then +another. You would never be able to tear yourself away from business +for six months; you care more for business than for anything else, and +I—I care for Art."</p> + +<p>By this time the dessert was on the table, and the servants had left +the room. Mr. Marian seemed vexed by his daughter's last remark, but +he did not immediately reply, and Maud was just thinking that enough +had been said on the subject, and she had better make her escape to the +drawing-room, when the house-bell was heard to ring.</p> + +<p>And a few moments later, the servant opened the door and announced "Mr. +Althorp."</p> + +<p>The man who entered the room was still young, but bore himself with +a grave, sedate air. He was tall and well-made, but not handsome, +yet the smile which lit up his countenance as he took Miss Marian's +outstretched hand gave him a most prepossessing appearance. His bearing +was distinguished by such grace and courtesy as women admire in men +far more than good looks. Most women of his acquaintance liked Sidney +Althorp; but Maud Marian was perhaps an exception. She called him an +"old friend," as indeed he was; but professed to find him tiresome, and +his conversation prosy.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Sidney," exclaimed Mr. Marian, an unfeigned welcome in his tones; +"to what do we owe this pleasure? Is it business brings you, or do you +come to offer your congratulations? If so, I had better warn you that +Maud regards the event of the day as a bereavement, and is indignant +with Hamilton."</p> + +<p>"At least, I may congratulate you that the ceremony was so admirably +accomplished," said Althorp, looking at Maud. "My mother has been +telling me about it. But it is business that brings me," he added, +turning to Mr. Marian. "After you left this morning, a clerk came from +Wardlaw Bros., and I promised to acquaint you with what he said and +send them a reply by to-night's post."</p> + +<p>He was proceeding to explain the matter when Maud rose.</p> + +<p>"If you have business to discuss, I will go to the drawing-room," she +said. "You will find me there when you feel inclined for coffee."</p> + +<p>Sidney Althorp opened the door and she passed out. His eyes followed +her slight, graceful figure across the hall with rather a regretful +glance ere he closed the door.</p> + +<p>Through a small ante-room decorated with rich draperies, palms, and +hothouse flowers, Maud entered the large drawing-room. A gay crowd +had filled it all the afternoon, and the room betrayed tokens of the +vanished visitors in the disorderly appearance it wore. Maud pushed +the chairs a little into their places, rescued a hand-screen, painted +by herself, from the fender into which it had fallen, and examined the +vase which held the bridal bouquet to see if it contained sufficient +water.</p> + +<p>Then with a sigh, she threw herself into an easy chair, saying half +aloud, "Weddings are horrid things."</p> + +<p>But she could not rest there long. Presently she sprang up, saying, +"Why need Sidney come and bother papa about business to-night of all +nights, when I feel so miserable, and hate to be alone?"</p> + +<p>She felt cross and out of spirits, a frame of mind which she imputed +entirely to her aunt's going away, not wishing perhaps to recognize any +other possible cause of it. She had seated herself at the grand piano +and was carelessly playing little snatches of melody, when the curtain +which screened the ante-room was pushed aside and Sidney Althorp came +in.</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is you!" she exclaimed. "Then I hope the business is concluded?"</p> + +<p>"My share of it," he said, coming to her side. "Your father has some +writing to do, but he will not be long. What is that you were playing? +It is very pretty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is only an air from a new opera I heard in Rome last winter," +Maud replied. The next moment she regretted the words. She did not wish +to speak of Rome with Sidney Althorp just then.</p> + +<p>"You enjoyed your winter abroad very much," he observed.</p> + +<p>"I did," replied Maud concisely.</p> + +<p>"Rome seems to have a wonderful fascination for every one who goes +there," was his next remark.</p> + +<p>"It has," said Maud; "there is no place like it." With that, she broke +into a brilliant march, calculated to suppress conversation.</p> + +<p>Althorp listened in silence for some minutes till she fell into a more +subdued strain, when he said, "Mary is anxious to form a choral class +this winter, to meet at different houses at Streatham. She hopes to +persuade you to join it."</p> + +<p>"She is very kind," said Maud, with some hesitation in her tones, +"but—I shall not be able to do so."</p> + +<p>"How so?" he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Maud lifted her hands from the piano, and turned round quickly on the +music-stool. There was no use in trying to evade the truth. He would +have it.</p> + +<p>"Do you not know," she said—and there was a defiant light in her eyes +as she spoke—"do you not know that I am going to Rome for the winter?"</p> + +<p>"Are you, indeed?" he returned in low, grave tones. "My mother told me +she understood you to say so this afternoon; but I could not believe +it."</p> + +<p>"And why not, pray?" she asked, not without embarrassment, to cover +which she walked across the room to the fireplace, and occupied herself +with stirring into a blaze the fire, which was hardly needed, for +though it was October, the night was warm.</p> + +<p>He was silent. Sidney Althorp had a way of being silent when most men +would have spoken, and his silences were very eloquent. Maud had no +difficulty in interpreting the meaning of this one.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," she said, "you think that now Aunt Helen is gone I ought +not to leave papa."</p> + +<p>"Do you not think so yourself?" he asked, turning upon her one of his +grave, searching glances.</p> + +<p>Maud's eyes fell beneath it, but she answered boldly, "No, I do not. It +is not my fault that Aunt Helen has chosen to get married, and I do not +see why I should be punished for it."</p> + +<p>"You call it a punishment to spend your winter here with your father?"</p> + +<p>"For me it would be that. Why should you look surprised? You know how I +love Art, how I have set my heart on having a studio in Rome."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," he said slowly; "but I should have thought—pardon +me—that there were other considerations."</p> + +<p>"You mean that it is my 'duty' to stay with my father," broke in Maud +impetuously as he paused. "When people want to make one do anything +unpleasant, they always use that word. But I cannot see that it is my +duty to waste my life. My father will be very comfortable without me. +We have excellent servants, and Rudd can be trusted to look after all +his needs. You know how little my father is at home. He will not miss +me much."</p> + +<p>"I think you are mistaken," said Althorp, gently, "and that he will +miss you more than you imagine. Because he is so many hours away from +home, it is the more desirable that he should find his home bright and +cheerful when he returns to it."</p> + +<p>Maud was growing more irritated with every word he uttered.</p> + +<p>"Of course you think me wrong," she said; "you always do. You love to +pose as my mentor. But you must allow me to decide this matter for +myself. You have no right to judge for me."</p> + +<p>The colour rose into Sidney Althorp's face as she spoke. He was pained +by her words, and his expression showed it.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly," he said, rather proudly, "I have no right to judge you. +You mistake me if you think I would presume to do so. You have given +your own interpretation to my words. I never said that you were wrong."</p> + +<p>"No, but you thought it," she rejoined.</p> + +<p>Ere he could reply, if he had any reply to make, Mr. Marian entered the +room.</p> + +<p>Maud rang the bell for coffee, and when the servant brought it, she +occupied herself with her cup, and vouchsafed neither word nor look to +Sidney Althorp. In her inmost heart she knew that she had been rude to +him, that her words had hurt him, but she preferred to regard herself +as an injured person.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, Althorp came to bid her good-night. His voice was as +gentle and his glance as kind as if nothing had occurred to disturb +their intercourse, and in spite of herself Maud was bound to smile and +respond with an appearance of cordiality.</p> + +<p>"Sidney is a good fellow," remarked her father when he had gone.</p> + +<p>Maud bit her lips and was silent.</p> + +<p>"It is a kind of goodness that always puts me in a rage," she thought. +The immediate effect of Althorp's slight, indirect remonstrance was to +make her more than ever determined to have her own way.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Papa, darling," she said a little later, seating herself by his side +and assuming her most coaxing manner, "you will let me go to Rome, +won't you? You don't know how I feel about it. I should be miserable if +I were disappointed after counting upon it so long."</p> + +<p>"Would you?" he said, regarding her wistfully. "You could not give up +your own way for once for the sake of your poor old father?"</p> + +<p>"I would give up anything else, papa, but not this—not my Art."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, then it must be so, I suppose," he said with an air of +resignation. "But how I shall get through the winter all alone in this +great empty house I cannot tell."</p> + +<p>"The time will soon pass, papa; I shall return in the spring."</p> + +<p>"We must find some one to go with you. You cannot live in Rome alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I should go to a pension," said Maud. "But still of course if you +wish—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I wish it—you must have a companion. How would Miss Richmond +do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, that terribly fussy old maid! I could not endure her for a +week."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Mrs. King would be willing to go with you."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. King! A widow of nearly fifty! Papa, you have the strangest ideas +of a companion."</p> + +<p>"Well, can you suggest anyone?"</p> + +<p>"Not at a moment's notice. We must enquire of friends, and if that +fails, we can advertise."</p> + +<p>"I have it," said Mr. Marian, after he had been silently thinking +for some minutes. "My cousin, John Mildmay, has several girls and +not very much money to spend upon them. There is one about your own +age, I believe. I'll be bound that she would be only too delighted to +accompany you to Rome."</p> + +<p>"The Mildmays?" said Maud. "Do you mean those people we met at +Ilfracombe some years ago, and you found out they were cousins of +yours? I remember there was one girl I liked very much. Her name was +Enid. We talked of inviting her here, but we never did so. I believe I +should like her for a companion."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; I will write to Mildmay about it to-morrow. How soon +do you think of going, Maud?"</p> + +<p>"Early in next month, papa."</p> + +<p>"So soon! You will surely wait till your aunt returns?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose I must," said Maud.</p> + +<p>In truth, she would have liked to get away before her aunt's return, +as she knew that her aunt was not likely to approve of her leaving her +father. Aunt Helen had either forgotten the plans Maud had formed for +the approaching winter, or she had taken it for granted that they would +now be abandoned. Maud had deemed it wisest to avoid all reference to +them during the busy weeks that preceded the wedding.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much, papa," said Maud as she bade him good-night. "It +is very good of you to let me go. You will not regret it when you see +the results of my work during those months at Rome. I hope to bring you +home such paintings as will make you proud of me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear, I should be prouder of you if you were willing to stay +with me than any picture you could paint would make me," said her +father with a sigh.</p> + +<p>He did not say the words unkindly, but they stung Maud nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"You have no ambition, papa; you cannot rightly appreciate Art," she +said impatiently, as she went away.</p> + +<p>She had won her point, but after all it did not yield her great +satisfaction. She had been intensely eager to go to Rome, but now +that the prospect was assured, she found to her surprise that the +anticipation was not wholly delightful. A drop of bitterness had been +instilled into it by that unwelcome suggestion concerning duty.</p> + +<p>"It is all Sidney Althorp's fault," she said to herself as she tossed +on her pillow, unable to sleep. "I wish he had not come this evening. +He always says things that make me uncomfortable. I should be quite +happy about going if he had not interfered."</p> + +<p>And yet in truth how little had Sidney Althorp said!</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +A STARTLING PROPOSAL<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>IN a large old-fashioned house in one of the quietest of the many dull +streets of Devonport lived, as a brass plate on the door announced to +the passerby, Dr. Mildmay. The two windows at the left of the door, +looking into the street and screened by brown wire blinds, belonged to +the dining-room. Within the room, at an early hour on a certain October +morning, a girl was standing. She was close to the further window, but +she was not looking out. Her back was towards the light, and she was +giving all her attention to the easel before her, which held the little +painting on which she was at work. A cluster of blackberries with a few +brilliant bramble leaves, arranged on a table beyond, was what she was +striving to represent.</p> + +<p>The girl's slight form was below the middle height, but +well-proportioned, and not without grace. She had brown hair, brown +eyes, and a healthy brown skin. The eyes, shaded by unusually long +lashes, were really pretty; the neat coil of shining braids, formed by +her abundant brown hair, called for admiration; but otherwise there was +nothing remarkable in her appearance save the bright, almost boyish, +frankness of her expression. As the clock on the mantelpiece struck +eight, she ceased painting and began to wash her brushes. A few minutes +later, another girl entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare, Enid!" she exclaimed, as she saw her sister's +occupation. "What industry! How long have you been at work, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Since seven," said Enid, laying down her brushes, and retiring a +little to contemplate her work. "How does it look to you, Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Beautiful!" said Alice, who had a profound admiration for everything +Enid did. "You have got the colour of those leaves splendidly."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Enid in a dissatisfied tone. "I fancy my colour +is too crude. But then the leaves fade so quickly. They are not nearly +so bright as when I picked them yesterday."</p> + +<p>"No; and the fruit is turning red," said Alice. "However, you have done +your best, and the result is very good, I think."</p> + +<p>With that she turned to the dining-table, which was already prepared +for breakfast save for a few items which Alice hastened to supply. She +was taller and stouter than her sister, and though a year younger than +Enid, might have passed for the elder.</p> + +<p>The girls' dispositions differed widely, but they were good friends +nevertheless. Alice was of an eminently practical turn of mind, fond of +homely occupations, full of energy, and disposed to regard everything +from the most matter-of-fact point of view. Enid too was gifted +with good common-sense, but in her case it was tempered by a fine +imagination and a certain ideality of character. Alice often accused +her sister of romantic tendencies, and not without reason; but romance +is not folly, as she perhaps thought. The world owes something to the +pure, tender fancies of a young girl's mind. It was good that Enid's +heart should crave beauty, and seek it wherever it might be found. Such +a one cannot live "by bread alone," but needs the Divine Word, whether +uttered by poet, or painter, or the voice of Nature herself.</p> + +<p>"How late everyone is this morning," said Enid, as she moved her easel +and placed it against the wall. "Ah! Here come the boys."</p> + +<p>The sound of a stampede from the top of the house to the bottom was +followed by the entrance of two boys, the younger of whom was ten years +old. A voice from the top of the stairs sternly rebuked them for making +so much noise, and a few seconds later Dr. Mildmay himself appeared.</p> + +<p>"Your mother has one of her bad headaches," he said, addressing his +daughters. "She will not get up just yet."</p> + +<p>Enid instantly began to prepare a tray to carry upstairs. Alice took +her place at the head of the table, her father seated himself opposite +to her, and the meal began. Dr. Mildmay had three more girls, but one +was away on a visit and the other two were at boarding-school. He was +rich in daughters.</p> + +<p>Enid carried her mother's tea and toast upstairs, and was gone some +minutes. Meanwhile, the postman arrived. There was a letter for Alice +as well as several for her father. She was engaged with hers when her +father suddenly roused her by exclaiming in surprised tones,—</p> + +<p>"Well, this is a strange thing, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>"What is strange, father?"</p> + +<p>"Why, here is a letter from my cousin James Marian, who scarcely ever +troubles himself to remember my existence. It is extraordinary that he +should write to me at all; but what is more astonishing, he actually +writes to ask if I will let Enid go to Rome with his daughter."</p> + +<p>"Enid go to Rome!" Alice's surprise could not be greater.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it appears that Miss Marian is somewhat of an artist, and intends +to pass the winter in Rome for the sake of prosecuting her art. He +wishes to secure a companion for her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! Enid would like it above all things."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Dr. Mildmay drily. "But unfortunately there are +other considerations. I wonder what made him think of my Enid."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps his daughter suggested her," said Alice. "Don't you remember, +that time we met them at Ilfracombe, she talked a good deal to Enid, +and seemed rather taken with her?"</p> + +<p>"Did we meet them at Ilfracombe? I had forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, father. They were staying at the Grand Hotel. You said that +you barely knew him at first, he was so altered from what he had been +when you saw him last."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! I remember all about it now. The girl was Enid's age, I +believe."</p> + +<p>"Older, father. She must be twenty-three, and Enid is not yet +twenty-one."</p> + +<p>"But she soon will be. That is no great difference. It would be a +thorough change for Enid if I let her go."</p> + +<p>"It would indeed," said Alice. "I suppose it would cost a lot of money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for that, Marian says it shall cost me nothing. I shall 'lay +him under a great obligation' if I allow Enid to accompany her cousin. +He writes a very kind letter."</p> + +<p>"If it is to cost you nothing, why should you hesitate?" asked Alice, +raising her eyebrows. "It would be a splendid thing for Enid."</p> + +<p>"That depends," said Dr. Mildmay. "It is not a thing to be settled +off-hand. I must talk to your mother about it."</p> + +<p>At that moment Enid came back into the room.</p> + +<p>"Enid," called out her youngest brother, "you are to go to Rome."</p> + +<p>"Why to Rome, of all places?" she asked, thinking he was joking.</p> + +<p>"How would you like to pass the winter in Rome?" asked her father, +turning his eyes upon her.</p> + +<p>"I only wish I had the chance," said Enid as she sat down. "Whatever +makes you ask me such a question?"</p> + +<p>"Because you have the chance," burst in Alice, unable to keep back the +news. "Mr. Marian has written to ask father to let you go."</p> + +<p>Enid's amazement was intense. She grew pale with excitement as Mr. +Marian's proposal was more fully explained to her. To go to Rome, the +grand old city that is like no other, with its solemn, awe-inspiring +ruins, its relics of departed greatness, and its priceless art +treasures; to Rome, the fount of beauty, the ideal school of artists, +the loved haunt of poets! It seemed too good to be true that such an +idea could even be mentioned in connection with herself.</p> + +<p>Long after their father had gone off to his consulting-room, and the +boys had started for school, the girls still sat at the breakfast-table +discussing the wonderful possibility.</p> + +<p>"Cook will lose her temper if I do not soon go and tell her about +dinner," said Alice at length rising from the table. "Just look at the +time! What am I thinking of to sit here like this!"</p> + +<p>And she hurried away to attend to her domestic duties. She undertook +the housekeeping under the supervision of her mother, who was not +strong enough to do much herself.</p> + +<p>Enid went to her mother's room. Before going to his patients, Dr. +Mildmay had made time to run upstairs and communicate to his wife +the contents of his cousin's letter. Enid found her mother almost as +excited about it as she was herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mildmay was a nervous, delicate, sensitive woman. Enid had her +mother's eyes, but not the fine contour of her face and her faultless +features. Mrs. Mildmay was glad that it was so. She rejoiced in the +round, rosy faces of her children. She would far rather they were +homely in appearance than that any of them should have inherited with +her highly refined features, the sensitive nerves, which at times made +her life a burden to her.</p> + +<p>Enid happily knew nothing of such suffering; but in many respects she +resembled her mother. The two understood each other perfectly. Mrs. +Mildmay warmly loved all her children; Alice was her right hand in +all practical matters; but Enid was united to her by a closer bond of +confidence and sympathy. Their tastes were similar. Mrs. Mildmay was +a highly-cultured woman. She read largely, and her reading extended +over a wide circle, embracing, with the scientific works dear to her +husband, works of philosophy, poetry, and general literature in which +he took no interest. His temper of mind being purely scientific, it +followed that she understood him better than he understood her. Enid in +some respects came nearer to her than he did. She could talk to this +child as she could not talk to him, and it was little wonder that her +heart clung fondly to Enid.</p> + +<p>Enid entered the darkened room with noiseless step; but her mother's +eyes were wide open and very bright, and there was a flush on her worn +cheek.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Enid!" she said, lifting her head. "This is a startling proposal, +is it not? Oh, you need not tell me—I know how you feel about it. Of +course you want to go."</p> + +<p>"I should like to go immensely," said Enid. "I cannot help hoping that +you and father will agree to let me go."</p> + +<p>"To be sure. It is a grand opportunity for you. It has been the wish +of my life to see Rome; but I shall never see it now. If you went, you +would tell me about it, and I should see it with your eyes. So there is +some selfishness in my wish that you should go. Yet I shrink from the +thought of your going so far from me. If you should be ill or unhappy! +There is that dreadful malaria—"</p> + +<p>"I should not be afraid of that," said Enid. "I have heard it said +that, with ordinary prudence, no one need dread the fever."</p> + +<p>"Certainly you have always had good health," said Mrs. Mildmay; "you +are not like me, I am thankful to say." She put her hand to her head +with an expression of pain.</p> + +<p>"Lie down, mother," said Enid; "we had better not talk about it now. +You will make your head worse."</p> + +<p>"In a minute, dear. I was going to say that this proposal offers you +great advantages. I told your father so. You will get on with your +drawing. I think you have decided talent, and I have often wished +that you could have a better chance of cultivating it. We must manage +somehow for you to have lessons in Rome."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, how good of you! I have been thinking about my drawing."</p> + +<p>"My dear, it is only right that we should do all we can for you. +Your father is not rich, and we wish all our girls to be thoroughly +educated, so that they may be able to support themselves in coming +years, if it be necessary. Clara, I think, must make music her special +study. Alice, dear girl, will always be able to employ herself in a +variety of ways, and as long as the home lasts, we shall want her here. +We cannot tell yet what the younger ones will be fit for. But you must +cultivate your taste for painting."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you think so," said Enid. "But now you really must rest."</p> + +<p>For the feverish colour was deepening in her mother's cheek, and Enid +knew well how bad for her was the excitement she manifested.</p> + +<p>"And then there is the language," Mrs. Mildmay went on, without heeding +her words: "of course you must learn to speak Italian whilst you are +there. It is easy to acquire a language when you hear every one about +you speaking it. I studied Italian when I was a girl. I used to read +Dante in the original; but of course I never learned to speak the +language. I must look for my Italian books, and see whether I can help +you to get some notion of the grammar before you go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Enid, joyfully. "You talk as if you really +thought I should go."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I fancy we shall have to let you go," said her mother with a +smile. Then with a change of countenance, she added, "But how I shall +miss you, child!" She lay back on her pillow, unable longer to combat +with the increased pain excitement had produced. Enid knew that there +was no remedy save perfect quietude, so she kissed her mother and went +away.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Enid was not left long in doubt as to her father's decision. On the +following day, he wrote to accept the proposal made by Mr. Marian.</p> + +<p>Two days later, Enid received a bright, friendly letter from her +cousin, who expressed much pleasure at the idea of having her company, +and drew a glowing picture of the delights that awaited them at Rome. +They were to start in three weeks' time, so Enid had enough to do to +get ready for her departure.</p> + +<p>Alice rose to the occasion, and worked indefatigably for her sister's +benefit. The amount of sewing she managed to get through, and the +ingenuity she displayed in every difficulty, were astonishing. There +was nothing in the event to disturb the balance of her mind; but Enid +was like one in a dream all the time, and would have forgotten half the +things she needed if Alice had not continually jogged her memory.</p> + +<p>Yet it was with a delightful sense of elation that Enid made her +preparations for the journey. As she bade her friends good-bye, every +one congratulated her on the prospect before her. Some even expressed +pity for Alice because she was not going too; but that contented young +woman would have none of their commiseration. She had no desire to +travel; but she knew that it was what Enid had always longed for, and +she was very glad she should have the pleasure.</p> + +<p>But in spite of the pleasure she anticipated, it was hard for Enid when +the eve of her departure came. A reaction set in then; her heart failed +her at the thought of going so far from those she loved, and for a +brief period she almost wished that the idea of her wintering in Rome +had never been entertained.</p> + +<p>Tears were not far from Enid's eyes as she bade her mother good-night. +And the parting the next morning was painful, but for Enid it was +a pain which did not last long. Her father had decided to take her +up to town himself. It was rarely he took a holiday; but he was not +particularly busy at this time, and he felt it would be pleasant to +renew his acquaintance with his cousin Marian, and see the girls start +on their long journey two days later.</p> + +<p>The express had not run far from Devonport ere Enid was chatting gaily +with her father about Rome. As generally happens, it was those left +behind who felt the parting most. Mrs. Mildmay shut herself in her +room for an hour after Enid had gone, and when she reappeared, her +eyelids were suspiciously red. Even Alice, whose cheerfulness rarely +fluctuated, was conscious of a blank, dreary feeling after her sister's +departure, and had to set about the rearrangement of Enid's room, +disordered by the exigencies of packing, with the utmost energy in +order to regain her usual equanimity. Enid Mildmay was not a girl who +could leave her home without being missed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +AT ROME<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>A YOUNG girl was standing on the highest gallery of the Colosseum. +Every detail of her attire, from the simple felt hat, which could +defy any weather, to the stout boots made for hard work, as well as a +certain air of unconscious ease and strength which marked her bearing, +proclaimed her to be English. At least so thought a young man who had +just stepped on to the platform from one of the flights of stone steps, +to find this young lady the only other occupant.</p> + +<p>She did not hear him approach, and had no eyes for him as she stood +gazing down into the vast area, or across it at the far-stretching +prospect beyond. Now and then her eyes fell on the red-covered +guidebook she carried, and she turned a page or two with rather a +dissatisfied look, but there was no discontent in her expression as her +glance again wandered over the mighty ruin. The Colosseum was all Enid +Mildmay had expected it to be, and more. She had felt bewildered as she +walked down from the Capitol, passing the old Forum and an astonishing +number of ruins of temples, palaces, archways, till she found herself +at the Colosseum.</p> + +<p>Only that morning had she arrived in Rome, and everything seemed new +and strange till she came within these grand old walls, the form of +which, as represented by picture and photograph, had been familiar to +her from her childhood. Yet how different was the reality from anything +she had imagined! How much vaster the proportions; how much more +stupendous the strength of this marvellous relic of a bygone age than +she could possibly have conceived! And then the solemn beauty of it all +as she saw it now, when the broken masses of pale brown wall above her +were outlined against a sky of softest blue, and a deeper blue filled +in the distant arches, when in the clear atmosphere every detail of the +vast circumference was clearly visible, and she could look down and +trace the corridors and the flights of steps by which the spectators +had entered, and the places where tiers upon tiers of seats had been, +and even the subterranean passages which ran beneath the arena. +Mingling with the deep interest she felt was a sensation of wonder +that she, Enid Mildmay, who less than a month ago had been living +her uneventful home life at Devonport without a thought of seeing +Rome, should stand on this November afternoon within the world-famous +Colosseum.</p> + +<p>But presently Enid forgot herself as her mind went back into the past, +and she tried to picture the scenes that had taken place within that +vast building. For a brief moment, she seemed to see the huge circle +lined with rows of eager spectators; they filled the seats rising tier +after tier from the arena; they crowded up the numerous stairs; there +were proud Roman ladies and fair girls, shrinking back, yet gazing +with fascinated eyes at the brutal sport enacted below; there was the +emperor on his marble throne beneath a gorgeous canopy; noble youths +and wealthy courtiers surrounded him; whilst from far above, the common +people, and the sailors employed to unfurl the awning when required, +looked down intent and excited on the dust and turmoil and cruel strife +of the arena.</p> + +<p>And the shows had not been merely gladiatorial. It was not enough that +men hired for the purpose should risk their lives in contests with wild +beasts. To gratify the bloodthirsty passions of the Roman populace, +faithful adherents of the sect "everywhere spoken against" here won +their martyr's crown amid the frantic shouts of a brutal mob. Enid +thought of St. Ignatius, the first of those martyred souls, and of St. +Prisca, here exposed to a lion which refused to touch her, and who, +after three days of unspeakable torture, perished finally by the axe. A +feeling of awe came over her with the thought, and for a moment a mist +rose before her eyes and hid the arena, which she felt to be sacred +ground.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Julius Dakin stood motionless at the top of the flight of +steps by which he had ascended. The Colosseum was not new to him. He +was familiar with every aspect of the grand old walls; and though he +had climbed to the highest platform for the sake of enjoying, on this +bright afternoon, the prospect it commanded, it now pleased him better +to look at Enid. He could read the meaning of her rapt, earnest look. +He was wont to meet many tourists. Not seldom it was his agreeable +duty to show to English and American ladies the famous ruins of Rome. +He knew the kind of remarks he might expect from them; frequently he +drew covert amusement from their pretended raptures or unconscious +revelations of ignorance; but now he saw at a glance that Enid was a +genuine enthusiast. Nor was that all he saw.</p> + +<p>"I know a nice girl when I see her," he said to himself, "and I mean to +make the acquaintance of this one."</p> + +<p>How he could do so without overstepping the restraints of gentlemanly +decorum did not appear. Enid's neat little form expressed a dignity +which would be swift to repel presumption. Various pretexts for +addressing her presented themselves to Julius' quick mind, and were +rejected as unsuitable. He had not stood there many moments revolving +such ideas when Enid, in spite of her absorption, felt the attraction +of his gaze and turned. Their eyes met in that full, perfect gaze which +is invariably felt as a surprise, and usually communicates to each a +thrill, either pleasurable or the reverse.</p> + +<p>A shade of melancholy still lingered on Enid's face, and she read in +the dark eyes that met hers an answering gravity, a strange, gentle +sympathy so powerful that she felt as if she were gazing into the face +of a friend, and scarce voluntarily exclaimed, "Oh, what a place this +is!"</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the words passed her lips ere she was astonished at +herself. Enid had been carefully, though not prudishly, trained. Unlike +Italian mothers, who can never trust their girls out of their sight, +Mrs. Mildmay had never the slightest doubt that Enid would on any and +every occasion conduct herself as became a lady. She was the last girl +likely to scrape an acquaintance with anyone on a chance meeting like +this. But everyone who lives vividly, and has strong emotions, knows +what it is to be suddenly moved by strange circumstances to a quick, +impulsive act before which one's past self stands amazed. The colour +rose in Enid's face, and she felt dreadfully ashamed as she realised +how unconventional, to say the least of it, was her behaviour in thus +addressing a stranger.</p> + +<p>But if Julius Dakin felt some surprise at her speaking to him, he was +far too well-bred to let it appear. He raised his hat and stepped +forward with the utmost courtesy. It was generally conceded by his +female acquaintance that Dakin's manners were perfection, for in his +case an Italian grace of bearing was grafted upon the manly and sincere +deference for women which marks the Anglo-Saxon.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed a place like no other," he replied easily. "In all +Rome—and I may claim to know Rome pretty thoroughly—I find nothing that +surpasses it in grandeur, and interest. 'Second to nought observable in +Rome' it is—to quote Browning."</p> + +<p>"But he says that of a picture, does he not?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes—of Guido Reni's Crucifixion in San Lorenzo in Lucina. You have not +seen it?"</p> + +<p>"I only arrived in Rome this morning," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"And it is your first visit? Then you have much to see and much +enjoyment before you. I almost envy you the vividness and charm of +first impressions."</p> + +<p>Enid stole a curious glance at her companion. She was surely not +mistaken in thinking him an Englishman, and yet her ear detected +something unusual in the way he spoke her language. It was rather an +intonation than an accent which she observed. His appearance told her +nothing. He had dark hair and eyes, but his complexion was not darker +than that of many an Englishman.</p> + +<p>His features were good, and he had a certain winning brightness of +expression. Enid could not but admire his tall, well-built form, nor +did it escape her observation that he was exceedingly well dressed, +though there was no sign of foppishness in his attire. She was about +to bid him good-day and leave him, when he, perhaps discerning her +intention, said quickly—</p> + +<p>"When I tell you that I have lived in Rome the greater part of my life, +you will understand how familiar all this is to me. Will you allow me +to act as showman, and point out to you the principal objects to be +seen from here?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I shall be much obliged to you if you will," said Enid. "I can +make out very little, even with 'Baedeker's' help. Am I right in taking +this hill on the right with the broken arches for the Palatine?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; those picturesque ruins belong to the palaces of the Cæsars. +That hill on your left is the Cœlian. Those brown buildings with the +square tower are the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo and the monastery +connected with it. The round building is the church of S. Stefano +Rotondo. You must be sure to visit the Cœlian during your visit. I hope +it is to be a long one, for it is impossible really to see Rome in a +few weeks."</p> + +<p>"I have come for the winter," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is right," said the young man, with a look of pleasure. "Now +see between these two hills what a fine view we have of the Campagna. +Yonder, where the blue distance melts into the white glow of the +horizon, is the sea."</p> + +<p>"What is that pyramid which rises there?" asked Enid, indicating the +direction with her hand.</p> + +<p>"That is the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, a Roman tribune. It was raised +by Agrippa to his memory, and is a tolerably substantial kind of +sepulchre. You will see it nearer one of these days."</p> + +<p>So they talked on, and as he gave her the information she needed, and +led her from one point of interest to another, Enid almost forgot +that she knew nothing of him save the credentials of good breeding +conspicuous in his bearing. If anyone had told her that she would spend +part of her first afternoon in Rome in talking and walking about the +Colosseum with a strange gentleman, to whom she had not even had an +introduction, she would have declared such a thing impossible. But the +stranger's perfect courtesy prevented her from feeling any awkwardness; +and when at length she decided that she could not remain longer, he +bade her good-day without betraying the least curiosity concerning her, +or any desire to thrust himself further on her notice.</p> + +<p>"He certainly is a gentleman," said Enid to herself, as she went on her +way. "But what could have induced me to speak to him first? I hope he +did not think me forward."</p> + +<p>Her colour deepened with the thought.</p> + +<p>"Somehow I seemed to know him; I had a sort of idea that he was +feeling as I was. What would mother say to it? What will Maud say? +For of course I shall tell her. I am not ashamed of what I have done, +though perhaps—. No, I do not see why I should be ashamed. I meant no +harm; and yet I wish I had not done it. Mother is right; I am far too +impulsive in my conduct. I wonder if I shall ever see him again? I dare +say not. And what should I do if we did meet? I could not speak to him, +for I do not know him; and yet, after his kindness to-day, it seems +discourteous to give him no sort of recognition. I almost hope I may +not see him; and yet—perhaps it was my fancy—but I really thought he +looked glad when I said that I had come to pass the winter at Rome."</p> + +<p>When Enid reached the "pension" in which Miss Marian had established +herself, she learned that the young lady, whom she had left reposing +after the fatigue of the journey, had since risen and gone out with a +friend. Enid therefore set to work to unpack and arrange her things.</p> + +<p>She had finished her arrangements and was making her toilette for +dinner when Maud appeared.</p> + +<p>She came in with an elated air.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Enid, I hope you have not minded being left to yourself so long. +Miss Merriman called to tell me of a delightful studio which is to let +in the Via Sistina. She did not know whether I had yet arrived, but +looked in on the chance; and I am very glad she did, for I would not +miss getting this studio for the world. Even now it is not certain +whether I can have it, for there is another artist in negotiation for +it. But I mean to outbid him if I can."</p> + +<p>"Is the studio near here?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—hardly five minutes' walk. It is a large room with a splendid +light, and I see my way to arranging it charmingly. Just beyond, at +the end of the passage, a flight of steps leads down into the most +delightful old garden, with orange trees and an old fountain and +statues—without noses, of course, but that only gives them a truer air +of antiquity—and I shall be able to paint there when the weather is +fine. I have already a grand idea for a picture. But I must not stay +talking here when it is almost dinner-time. Come to me, Enid, as soon +as you are ready." And she hurried away.</p> + +<p>The bell rang for dinner as Enid crossed the corridor to her cousin's +room. Maud was hurriedly fastening her gown, and had no time for words; +but as they passed out of the room she said carelessly—</p> + +<p>"And where have you been this afternoon, Enid?"</p> + +<p>"I found my way to the Colosseum," replied Enid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the Colosseum. New-comers are always eager to see that. For my +part, I am rather tired of the Colosseum."</p> + +<p>"I do not think I can ever tire of it," said Enid.</p> + +<p>By that time, they were at the dining-room, for the rooms being all on +one floor were not far apart. Enid had had no opportunity of telling +her cousin of her afternoon's experience.</p> + +<p>As soon as dinner ended, Maud said, "Enid, I am going straight to bed, +for I begin to be aware that a night on the railway, even though it be +in a 'train de luxe,' does not afford one thorough rest."</p> + +<p>Enid too was feeling the need of sleep, so without more words they said +good-night, and retired to their rooms.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Maud Marian was certainly not lacking in energy. When Enid came out of +her room the next morning, she met her cousin in the passage dressed to +go out.</p> + +<p>"You will not mind my leaving you this morning, Enid?" she said. "I +must go and see the 'padrone' again about that studio, and afterwards +I am going to my banker's. It would be dull for you to hang about with +me whilst I attended to my business. I am sure you would rather go +sight-seeing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I think I would," said Enid. "I am longing to see St. +Peter's if I can find my way thither."</p> + +<p>"Nothing easier. Signora Grassi will tell you your way to the piazza, +where you can take an omnibus for San Pietro. Good-bye; take care of +yourself. We shall meet at luncheon."</p> + +<p>So Enid again went out alone, and managed to pass the forenoon very +pleasantly without meeting with any misadventure. Maud was in excellent +spirits when they met at luncheon. She believed that the studio was +hers, though there were still some formalities to be observed ere she +could take possession of it.</p> + +<p>"And I have had the most delightful gossip with my banker, Mr. Dakin," +she said. "He has been telling me all the news of Rome. I must +introduce you to him some day, Enid. He is a charming old gentleman."</p> + +<p>"An Englishman?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and his wife is American. She is much younger than he, and a very +stylish woman. She is on a visit to New York just now."</p> + +<p>After luncheon both Maud and Enid had letters to write, and when that +duty was accomplished, Maud took Enid to the Pincio.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely afternoon, and Rome's fashionable resort wore its +gayest aspect. The blue sky, the warm sunshine, the appearance of the +leafy walks, and the wide terrace dotted with coloured parasols, made +the girls feel as if they had been carried back into summer.</p> + +<p>"What a change from London!" said Enid. "Do you remember the fog +through which we drove to the station, Maud?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Maud, with a smile. "Now do you think there is +anything unreasonable in my wishing to winter in Rome?"</p> + +<p>Enid could not say that there was. They went forward to the front of +the terrace, which commands a grand view over Rome, and Maud pointed +out to her cousin some of the more conspicuous buildings. The scene had +a fascination for Enid, and she could have lingered long looking over +the broad expanse of roofs and domes and away to the blue Campagna; but +Maud soon began to manifest interest in the carriages driving up and +the crowd gathering about the band-stand.</p> + +<p>"Let us go and see who is here," she said. "Many of my friends have not +yet returned to Rome, but I am sure to find someone I know."</p> + +<p>Nor was she mistaken. She was soon greeted by various acquaintances, +to whom she introduced her cousin. Maud's tall, slim form seemed to +attract much attention. She wore a grey gown of elegant simplicity, and +a little black velvet hat which set off admirably the ruddy gold of her +hair. Enid felt proud of her cousin, and did not wonder that everyone +who greeted her showed such pleasure at seeing her. In truth, Miss +Marian had been quite the belle of the English community in Rome during +the past winter. After Rumour had enhanced her personal attractions by +whispering that her father was immensely rich, and she was his only +child, everyone found her charming. People had made so much of her, +indeed, that it was little wonder she was eager to return to Rome.</p> + +<p>Maud received the many compliments paid her with self-possession; but +though she disclaimed any right to them, there was a sparkle in her eye +which betrayed that they yet gave her pleasure. She did not remain long +in conversation with anyone, but passed from group to group, observing +the while every carriage and rider that passed.</p> + +<p>"Come, Enid," she said, suddenly moving forward; "here is the Queen; +you must see her."</p> + +<p>A carriage, rendered conspicuous by the scarlet liveries of the +servants, came into sight. Enid saw a lady bowing and smiling +pleasantly from it to everyone she passed.</p> + +<p>"So that is the Queen," she said, as the scarlet coats disappeared in +the distance; "she looks very nice."</p> + +<p>"She is charming," said Maud; "not beautiful exactly, but what the +Italians call 'simpatica,' which is almost better, I think, than being +beautiful. Well, shall we walk on? There is no one particular here this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Why, you seem to have met ever so many people!" exclaimed Enid in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes, everyone but those I should like to see," said Maud rather +petulantly.</p> + +<p>"Was there anyone you particularly wanted to see?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no. How literally you take all my words, Enid! I shall have to +be careful what I say to you."</p> + +<p>Enid was looking across the road to where the Queen's liveries still +gleamed through the trees. Suddenly she started, and the colour flew +into her. She had caught sight of a gentleman riding down a path which +opened from the trees on their right. The state of confusion into +which she was thrown by the appearance of this gentleman was for a +few minutes quite overwhelming. She had a momentary impulse to draw +Maud's attention to him, then felt it impossible to do so. Anxious +that he should not recognise her, she turned her head resolutely in +the opposite direction and gazed at the glorious cupola of St. Peter's +standing forth from the glowing sunset sky.</p> + +<p>The next moment, the band struck up a lively air, and the sudden clash +of instruments startled the gentleman's horse, causing it to plunge and +rear, so that he had to give all his attention to keeping his seat, and +had no eyes for the people about him. Touching it with the spurs, he +gave his steed the rein. Enid felt rather than saw that he dashed past +them at full gallop. But Maud was moving towards the balustrade, her +thoughts intent for the moment on the sunset, and she did not see the +rider.</p> + +<p>"How grand the dome looks now!" she observed. "I wish I dare attempt +to paint it, with such a glowing sky for background. But most of the +pictures one sees of St. Peter's against a red sky are wretched daubs."</p> + +<p>Enid did not reply. Her eyes were on the winding road below, on which a +rider now came in sight.</p> + +<p>"Maud," she said, rather nervously, "do you see that gentleman riding +below? Do you not think he rides like an Englishman?"</p> + +<p>Maud gave a quick glance and her colour deepened. "Of course; he is +English," she said. "I declare it is Julius Dakin! What can make him +leave the Pincio so soon? He cannot have been here many minutes, or I +should have seen him."</p> + +<p>She spoke with an air of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Then you know him?" said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Certainly; he is a great friend of mine. He is the son of Mr. Dakin, +the banker of whom I was speaking this morning. He is an only child, +like myself, and somewhat of a spoilt child too; but still he is very +nice. I wish I had seen him. He would be sorry if he knew that I was up +here and he had missed me."</p> + +<p>Now was the time for Enid to tell her cousin of her meeting with +this gentleman at the Colosseum. But somehow she felt most reluctant +to speak of it. She could not understand why it was, but the words +her cousin had uttered concerning Julius Dakin made it seem all but +impossible to relate the manner in which she had already made his +acquaintance. So she faltered and hesitated, till another acquaintance +came up to claim Miss Marian's attention, and her opportunity was gone.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +THE INAUGURATION OF THE STUDIO<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MAUD succeeded in obtaining the studio on which she had set her heart, +and for the next fortnight she was engaged in the delightful occupation +of furnishing it. No considerations of expense restricted the +gratification of her artistic love of beautiful things. She searched +the shops and sale-rooms of Rome for quaint furniture, rare tapestries, +rugs, and costly fabrics of various kinds. She bought pictures, +statuettes, plaques, vases, in such numbers, that Enid, accustomed to +spend money carefully, was amazed at her cousin's extravagance.</p> + +<p>"If I have a studio at all, I must have an elegant one," Maud would say.</p> + +<p>She wanted to begin where most artists finish. She was ambitious of +having a studio which would compare with those of the famous painters +of Rome, whose art treasures had been slowly and lovingly accumulated +during many years of work.</p> + +<p>Enid did not always accompany her cousin on her shopping expeditions. +Sometimes Maud preferred to be accompanied by an artist friend, in +whose judgement she placed more confidence than in Enid's, whom she +did not credit with much taste or knowledge of artistic effects. Enid +was not sorry to be left free to go sight-seeing. With her "Baedeker" +as her guide, she spent many a delightful hour in wandering about the +neighbourhood of the Roman Forum and the Capitol. She did not again +meet Julius Dakin.</p> + +<p>Maud seemed often to meet him as she transacted her business. She came +home one morning in excellent spirits, and told Enid that she had met +Julius Dakin on her way to the shops, and he had been good enough to go +with her from place to place, and give her his opinion with regard to +various important purchases.</p> + +<p>"Is he an artist?" enquired Enid.</p> + +<p>"No; he only paints a little as an amateur; but he has perfect taste, +and understands art thoroughly."</p> + +<p>"Has he nothing to do, that he can afford to spend the whole morning in +attendance on a lady?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>Maud shrugged her shoulders. "He is supposed, to help his father in +the bank, I believe," she said; "but I am sure I cannot tell when he +attends to business, for he goes everywhere, and one meets him out at +all hours."</p> + +<p>"I don't approve of a man who does nothing," said Enid, thinking of her +father's busy, hard-working life.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Julius Dakin is such a careless, light-hearted creature; the life +of a 'dilettante' suits him exactly. And there is no need for him to +work; his father has plenty of money, so what does it matter?"</p> + +<p>Enid was silent. She thought it mattered a great deal; but she hardly +knew how to explain her ideas on the subject to her cousin.</p> + +<p>When the workmen who had been employed upon the studio had finished +their tasks, and the time had come for the actual arrangement of the +room, Maud found her cousin of the utmost service. If Enid was not +so learned with respect to things rare and beautiful as her cousin, +she understood the simple, practical details on which the realisation +of Maud's ideas depended. With needle and cotton, or with hammer and +nails, she was equally skilful, and curtains were hung and fixtures +adjusted with a knack which astonished Maud.</p> + +<p>"I think it will about do," said that young lady at last, surveying +her room with an elated air. "The general effect is good. I am not +sure, though, that the Venus would not look better in this corner. Oh, +I do hope Julius Dakin will pronounce it good. He will see at once if +anything is out of harmony."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he 'can' find much fault," said Enid, tired but well +pleased with the result of her labours. "Shall I bring forward this +other easel, Maud, or will you have it left here behind the screen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bring it forward," said Maud; "there should always be plenty of +easels visible in a studio. Besides, you will want one: you are to work +too, you know. Don't you remember I told your father I would make an +artist of you? And really those little paintings of yours are not bad; +you will do something good in time if you work. Put that blackberry +spray of yours on the easel."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Enid that there was only one objection to be made to +the studio, and that was that it was too elegant. There was too much +decoration, and not sufficient evidence of work. Everything, even to +the palettes and brushes, looked new, and the few sketches which Maud +had taken from her portfolio and pinned here and there about the walls +hardly appeared to come up to the standard which the room demanded. +There were some of Maud's more ambitious attempts handsomely framed +upon the walls; but Enid found herself looking at these with a sense +of regret that she could not admire them more. She supposed that they +represented Maud's earlier efforts, and that she had not yet seen her +cousin's best work.</p> + +<p>Almost every room in the large old-fashioned house in the Via Sistina +was let as a studio. As she went up or down the stairs—as in those busy +days of preparation she did many times in the day—Enid occasionally met +a middle-aged woman, small and pale, with a melancholy expression, and +whose dress was not only shabby but exceedingly odd in its style. There +were many curious turns and twists in the old house, and one day Enid +saw this woman pass along a narrow passage turning off from the main +staircase and enter a room marked "Studio No. 8."</p> + +<p>"Maud," she said, when she returned to her cousin, "do you know who has +Studio No. 8 in this house?"</p> + +<p>"No. 8," said Maud; "I believe that is Miss Strutt's. She is a thorough +old maid; one of the queerest-looking creatures you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"Then it was she I met on the stairs," said Enid. "Does she live at her +studio? For I believe she was carrying a loaf when I met her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she lives there, if you can call it living, for they say she is +as poor as a church mouse. She is a Scotch-woman. I hope you admired +the fashion of her dress. Someone told me that she was once about to be +married, and had her 'trousseau' all ready, when the match was broken +off, and she has been wearing her wedding gowns ever since. I am sure +the one I last saw her in looked as if it might have been made fifty +years ago."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!" said Enid. "She must be dreadfully lonely if she lives +there by herself. Has she no friends in Rome?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say, I am sure," replied Maud. "Everyone who speaks to me +about her seems to regard her as a kind of joke."</p> + +<p>"What is her painting like?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing remarkable. She paints in water-colour. By-the-by, I heard she +had several pictures in the last 'Esposizione dei Belli Arti,' and they +were highly commended, so I suppose she can sell her work. Perhaps she +is miserly."</p> + +<p>The next time Enid met Miss Strutt on the stairs she ventured to utter +a "Good-day."</p> + +<p>The poor artist looked up in surprise, and a faint tinge of colour +appeared on her worn cheek as she returned the greeting of the English +girl.</p> + +<p>Maud had lost no time in issuing to her friends cards intimating the +day on which she would be "At home" at her studio. She had talked so +much about her studio that people were curious to see it, and when the +day arrived she had quite a crowd of visitors. One of the earliest to +enter was Julius Dakin. Maud welcomed him with one of her most winning +smiles.</p> + +<p>"Now you have come to criticise. I know," she said, "and I give you +leave to say what you like. Look round and tell me just what you think +of things, and suggest any improvements that occur to you. But first +allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Enid Mildmay."</p> + +<p>Enid was busying herself at the tea-table. She had not looked up at +the sound of Julius Dakin's voice, though she had known in an instant +that it was he who entered. She was not subject to nervousness, but her +hands were rather unsteady as she tried to kindle the spirit-lamp, and +she was conscious of a strange sensation of shyness.</p> + +<p>Her colour deepened as she met the look of surprise and pleasure which +came into the young man's eyes. Maud saw it and was astonished.</p> + +<p>"I think we have met before, Miss Mildmay, and at a more famous place," +he said easily, "though who knows how famous this studio of Miss +Marian's is destined to become?"</p> + +<p>"What!" said Maud, amazed. "You have met Enid before!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured Enid, in some confusion, "I met Mr. Dakin at the +Colosseum on the day of our arrival in Rome."</p> + +<p>"And Miss Mildmay was good enough to allow me to act as her guide," +added Dakin. "You know how proud I am of my knowledge of the ruins, +since, unlike most of the inhabitants of Rome, I have really made a +study of them."</p> + +<p>Maud felt an annoyance which she could hardly conceal. But as Julius +Dakin began to admire her studio, and delicately insinuate compliments +on her good taste, the cloud faded from her brow.</p> + +<p>More visitors arrived, everyone ready to admire the room and compliment +the fair owner. For some time Enid was kept busy at the tea-table, +whilst Julius Dakin made himself useful in handing the cups to and +fro. At last, when everyone was supplied, there was a pause of a few +minutes, and Enid had leisure to observe the social qualities which +Julius Dakin was displaying. He seemed a different being as she watched +him now from the man who had explained to her every point of interest +attaching to the Colosseum. What an inexhaustible supply of small talk +he seemed to possess! What nonsense too he talked; and yet it was a +clever kind of nonsense. It was clear that he was a great favourite +with the ladies present, and no wonder, Enid thought, as she heard +some of the words he addressed to them. Now he was admiring the pretty +gown worn by a girl present, and subtly suggesting to her that it was +becoming; now he was talking to a young mother of her fine boy; and now +congratulating a rather worn-looking spinster who wore glasses on the +hanging of one of her pictures at a recent exhibition.</p> + +<p>"He aims at making himself generally agreeable," thought Enid. "I shall +know what it means when he pays me compliments."</p> + +<p>The next moment he was at her side. Catching sight of the easel Enid +had drawn into the corner by the tea-table, hoping it would escape +observation, he said, "Miss Marian did not paint that?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Enid, "that is an attempt of mine. Don't look at it, please."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I must look at it. It is very good. The bloom of the fruit and +the colour of the leaves is excellent. It is really—" he lowered his +voice—"the best thing of the kind in the room."</p> + +<p>Enid coloured.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't," she said hurriedly. "I hate to be complimented."</p> + +<p>"But I am not uttering an empty compliment," he said, looking at her. +"What! You do not believe me?"</p> + +<p>"I think you are clever at making pretty speeches, Mr. Dakin."</p> + +<p>He laughed, and evidently felt complimented.</p> + +<p>"So you have been taking notes, I see. That is the way with you quiet +people. But surely one is bound to try to make oneself agreeable, and +ladies as a rule like that kind of thing."</p> + +<p>"And men are quite superior to it, I suppose?" said Enid mischievously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," he said, laughing again. "But really, Miss Mildmay, +you mistake me if you think I was not speaking sincerely when I said +that was the best thing in the room."</p> + +<p>"And yet you would not tell Maud that."</p> + +<p>"Why should I? It would be most 'gauche' to do so, now I know it is +not her work. Surely one may have regard for truth without saying with +brutal frankness exactly what one thinks?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I suppose one must exercise some reserve," said Enid. "Yet +I like people who say straight out what they mean, even though they are +sometimes guilty of bluntness."</p> + +<p>"Then I will try to please you in that respect, Miss Mildmay. I promise +you I will pay you no compliment from henceforth save that involved in +telling you the exact truth on every occasion."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Enid. "I assure you I shall consider that a +compliment. But who is this gentleman?" she asked, glancing at one +who had just entered the studio, and whom Maud was welcoming with +enthusiasm. "He is surely an artist?"</p> + +<p>"He is," replied Dakin, "and one of the most distinguished in Rome. He +will please you, Miss Mildmay, for Herr Schmitz is famous for saying on +every occasion exactly what he thinks. Really I wonder at Miss Marian's +audacity in sending him an invitation."</p> + +<p>The painter was a man of short, thick-set figure, with a large leonine +head covered with abundant grizzly hair. His countenance was homely +in the extreme, and pitted by small-pox; but his gray eyes were keen +and farseeing, and though his expression was not exactly amiable, Enid +fancied she could detect a gleam of humour in his eyes, and indications +of the same in the lines about his mouth. He was explaining to Miss +Marian that he had not come to the house for the purpose of calling on +her, but to see a friend of his, an artist, who had a room below; being +there, however, he thought he might as well take a look at her studio.</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you—indeed, I feel highly honoured," said Maud +sweetly.</p> + +<p>Herr Schmitz frowned. Apparently he liked compliments as little as +Enid. He raised his "pince-nez" and began to look critically about the +room.</p> + +<p>"Too pretty, too pretty," he said, speaking in English, though with a +strong foreign accent. "A very charming 'salon,' but not a workshop. It +does not please me to see all this luxury in a studio."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't call it luxury," said Maud, with an air of deprecation. +"Everything looks horridly new at present, I know, and so spick and +span; but the place will be littered enough when I begin to work."</p> + +<p>"You'd better lose no time in beginning," said the painter gruffly. +"Don't make a plaything of your studio that will beguile you from your +work. What have we here? A child holding an apple with an impossible +arm. My dear Miss Marian, don't attempt things of that kind till you +have learned to draw. Get plaster casts of arms and legs, or dummies +with moveable joints, and draw them in every possible position. You +should not think of painting till you have mastered form."</p> + +<p>Maud coloured, and looked intensely mortified; but her self-possession +did not desert her.</p> + +<p>"You are right—I need more practice," she said. "I knew there was +something wrong with that arm. Of course all my poor attempts must +appear very faulty in your eyes."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Any eyes that know what arms are would see that that is out +of drawing. And here we have a bit of the Tiber and St. Peter's in +the distance. Colour fair, but don't you see the shore-line could not +possibly have been so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I see what you mean," said Maud hurriedly, feeling it +unendurable that the defects in her paintings should thus be exposed +to the company gathered to admire her studio. "But before you look at +anything more, you must have a cup of tea. Yes; indeed, my cousin will +be quite disappointed if you do not taste the tea she has made. We +English pride ourselves, you know, on being able to make good tea."</p> + +<p>"I never drink tea," said the painter brusquely; "but I shall be happy +to make your cousin's acquaintance."</p> + +<p>So Herr Schmitz was brought to where Enid sat, and introduced to her, +and almost immediately, to her horror, his eyes fell on her little +painting.</p> + +<p>"Ah, let me see!" he exclaimed, moving nearer to the easel. "This is +a new departure." He examined it critically for a few moments, and +then, aware perhaps that Miss Marian was hurt by his previous remarks, +he began to commend warmly the one thing he had found which he could +praise.</p> + +<p>"This is good," he said; "you have taken pains with this. There is +careful drawing here, and the colour is good. That shadow might be +deepened with advantage, and this leaf should be more transparent; +still, it is a distinct advance. I did not know that you went in for +this sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I," said Maud coldly. "That is the work of my cousin."</p> + +<p>"Ah you paint too then," said Herr Schmitz, turning upon Enid a keen, +interested gaze. "You are very fond of painting—is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed I like painting," replied Enid; "but I have had little +instruction."</p> + +<p>"No matter—you have talent; and if you work, work, work, you will +get on. You have an eye for form and an eye for colour—two excellent +gifts; but you must develop them. Practise drawing constantly; accustom +yourself to draw all kinds of forms—there is no other way to attain +freedom of hand."</p> + +<p>He went on to give Enid quite a lesson, to which she would have +listened with pleasure but for her consciousness of the mortification +Maud was enduring. Then, without noticing anything more of Maud's, or +giving her a word of encouragement, the great man took his departure.</p> + +<p>Miss Marian's friends rallied round her when he was gone. She must +not think anything of what Herr Schmitz had said, they assured her. +Everyone knew he was a perfect bear; for their part they believed he +was envious because her studio was so much better furnished than his +own. Julius Dakin told an absurd story to prove that Herr Schmitz +believed there was but one great modern painter, and that was himself.</p> + +<p>An Italian gentleman present—not an artist—foretold that Herr Schmitz +would learn one day that he was mistaken, for there was at least one +other artist in the world, the fair painter of the Studio Mariano. +This speech was received with applause, not because his prophecy was +believed, but because everyone was struck with the happy way in which +he had named the studio. It was a name which stuck to it. Henceforth +Miss Marian's place of work was constantly spoken of by her friends as +the Studio Mariano. Happily she never knew how often the mention of it +raised a laugh, since amongst the artists of her acquaintance who were +permitted to visit her there, the Studio Mariano came to be regarded as +an excellent joke.</p> + +<p>Maud did her best to hide her wounded feelings. She admitted that Herr +Schmitz was very hard to please, and that she was properly punished +for her presumption in inviting him to her poor studio. But though she +laughed and joked about it, Enid could see that she was sorely hurt, +and when her company had departed, she no longer attempted to hide that +she was so.</p> + +<p>"Horrid man!" she said, as she threw herself into an easy chair. "He +has put me out of heart with everything. Just as I was so pleased with +my studio too! I wish he had not come."</p> + +<p>Enid was silent. She was afraid of saying the wrong thing if she spoke, +and Maud was certainly not in the mood to be soothed by any words from +her cousin. As she glanced at the little painting which had received +such praise from the master, a feeling of envy and bitterness crept +into her heart. She nursed her sore feelings in silence for some time, +but when she next addressed her cousin, her voice expressed somewhat of +the bitterness she felt.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not tell me, Enid, that you met Julius Dakin at the +Colosseum?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to tell you," said Enid, "but when I got back to the house, +you were out, and when you returned it was almost dinner-time. There +was really no opportunity that evening."</p> + +<p>"There have been opportunities since," said Maud drily.</p> + +<p>"Of course," replied Enid. "I really hardly know myself how it is I +have not told you. You must remember I did not know when I met him that +he was a friend of yours."</p> + +<p>"You must have known on the following afternoon, when we saw him on the +Pincio."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I knew then," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Please understand, Enid," said Maud, her voice quivering with passion, +"that you and I shall never get on together unless you are perfectly +straightforward with me. There is nothing I detest like underhand ways."</p> + +<p>"Maud!" exclaimed Enid. "What do you mean?" She was naturally +quick-tempered, and the insinuation conveyed by her cousin's words +excited her warm indignation.</p> + +<p>"Pray explain what you mean by 'underhand ways,'" she went on, as Maud +continued silent. "No one has ever accused me of such; what can you +have seen in my conduct that can give you any right to suspect me of +deceit?"</p> + +<p>"I have not accused you of anything," said Maud; "I have only warned +you."</p> + +<p>"Then you might wait till such a warning is necessary," said Enid.</p> + +<p>Maud made no reply, but rose and began to put on her hat and cloak. +Having uttered the last word, Enid had time to discover that she was +actually quarrelling with her cousin. She was dismayed at the thought. +They had barely been three weeks together, and they were disagreeing +already! Still, Enid could not feel that she alone was to blame. She +set to work to gather the cups and saucers together and put the room in +order with a sense of grievance on her mind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she felt Maud's hand on her shoulder, and Maud's voice said, +"Forgive me, Enid; I should not have spoken to you so, but that horrid +Herr Schmitz has made me as savage as a bear."</p> + +<p>Enid accepted the apology, and kissed her cousin. Apparently all was +as before between them, but in truth, the incidents of the day had +effected a breach in their friendship, though as yet so slight as to be +almost imperceptible.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +NEW FRIENDS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"ENID," said her cousin one morning, as they were on their way to the +studio, "do you think of taking lessons in Italian whilst you are in +Rome?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to do so," said Enid; "it seems a pity not to acquire +the language whilst one is in the country."</p> + +<p>"It does, indeed," said Maud, who spoke Italian fluently, if not with +perfect accuracy. "Well, if you are disposed to learn, I have heard of +a teacher for you. Signora Campodonica was telling me yesterday of a +young lady, a friend of hers, who wishes to give lessons. She is well +educated—for an Italian girl—and speaks English; but she has never +taught before, so her terms will be low."</p> + +<p>"Which will suit me excellently well," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think she would do for you. All you want is to learn to speak. +Signora Campodonica speaks of Signorina Ravani as a charming girl. +She is of good family; but her mother is a widow in very straitened +circumstances. There is a son who is married and in a good position, +and it seems that he exercises rather tyrannical authority over his +mother and sister."</p> + +<p>So it was arranged that Enid should take lessons of Signorina Ravani. +As the house in which she lived was near the "pension" where Enid and +her cousin boarded, and it is not considered correct for Italian young +ladies to walk unprotected through the streets, Enid agreed to go there +to receive her lessons.</p> + +<p>At the hour fixed for her first lesson, Enid, after climbing several +flights of stone stairs—an inevitable preliminary to every visit one +pays in Rome—reached the small apartment occupied by Signora Ravani and +her daughter. The servant ushered her into a small ante-room, simply +but prettily furnished, with snowy curtains at the window, and flowers +tastefully disposed here and there. As the morning air was rather +sharp, the servant placed at her feet a "cassetta," as the Italians +call the perforated boxes filled with hot charcoal so much used in +Italy, and gave her a "scaldina," or earthenware vase filled with hot +ashes, at which to warm her fingers. A few moments later, Adela Ravani +entered the room.</p> + +<p>Enid had come prepared to be pleased with her teacher; but the beauty +of the young Italian girl fairly took her by surprise. Here was a face +and form such as books had described to her as belonging to Italy, but +which she had not before beheld. Adela's features were delicately cut +as a cameo, she had the pure olive complexion so peculiarly Italian, +and the most glorious eyes imaginable. Enid could hardly conceal the +admiration with which this girl's appearance inspired her. She fell +in love with her at once, and was ready, with all a young girl's +passionate enthusiasm for beauty in her own sex, to believe that she +saw before her one who was as good and noble as she was beautiful.</p> + +<p>Her young teacher appeared quite unconscious of the effect she +produced. There was not a trace of vanity in her demeanour. She seemed +anxious and even nervous about the lesson. She had never taught before, +she said, and she hoped Miss Mildmay would tell her if she did not +like her method. Enid happened to have a decided opinion of her own as +to the best mode of studying a language, so in the end she instructed +Signorina Ravani how to teach her. But the first lesson was a simple +enough affair, and Enid went away well pleased with it, and with her +teacher.</p> + +<p>"You must see her, Maud," she said to her cousin; "she is the loveliest +girl you ever saw in your life. You will want her for a model, I am +sure. She would be splendid for a picture."</p> + +<p>"A model! Enid, what are you saying? Fancy a Roman lady condescending +to sit as an artist's model!"</p> + +<p>"Well, all I meant was, that you should paint her portrait," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"But I am no portrait painter, alas!" said Maud. Her complacency had +recovered from the shock dealt to it by Herr Schmitz's criticism; but +she had not quite forgotten the lesson.</p> + +<p>"Did I tell you, Maud, that father and mother wished me to take some +lessons in painting whilst I am here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think you said something about it. You will find no difficulty; +there are plenty of masters."</p> + +<p>"But I want a really good one," said Enid. "Of whom did you learn, +Maud?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I used to go to Signor Campodonica's studio," said Maud; "but I +must warn you that his terms are very high."</p> + +<p>"Then that will not do for me," said Enid. "However, there is time to +consider the matter. I cannot settle to steady work till I have seen +more of Rome. I am going to the Capitol now, Maud."</p> + +<p>"Very well; go and enjoy yourself in your own way," said Maud. "Here is +my model, so I am bound to work hard for the next two hours."</p> + +<p>A round-faced, olive-skinned boy, with melancholy dark eyes, entered +the studio. He wore the picturesque costume of an Italian peasant, and +his face struck Enid as very familiar. In fact, she had already seen it +under various guises in the picture shops of Rome.</p> + +<p>Maud set to work, and Enid went on her way to the Capitol. As she ran +down the stairs, she met Miss Strutt toiling slowly up them. She looked +so pale and sad that Enid could not bear to pass her with a mere "Good +morning." So she plucked up courage to stop and say,—</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Strutt. You know, perhaps, that my cousin and +I work in a studio upstairs. Since we are neighbours, I have been +wondering whether you would mind letting me see your paintings some +day, whenever it is convenient?"</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt looked surprised, but not displeased. "Certainly," she +said, and her voice had a pleasant sound; "I am always at home to show +people my pictures on Thursday afternoons." She looked observingly at +the young girl before her, then added, as if wishing to express more +cordiality, "But I shall be happy to show them to you at any time. +Perhaps you could look in this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I shall be very pleased to do so," Enid said.</p> + +<p>Maud laughed at her cousin for being so eager to make the acquaintance +of an old maid, and declared that she would find her a bore; but +Enid's experience was quite otherwise. She had proposed her visit with +the hope of brightening somewhat a lonely, dreary life; and her kind +thought was richly rewarded.</p> + +<p>She was surprised that Maud should have spoken so slightingly of Miss +Strutt's work when she saw how very beautiful her water-colours were. +They were the work of one who had a passionate love of Nature, with +insight and skill to catch and reproduce the changeful beauty of her +moods. Here were lovely little bits of the Campagna crossed by the +broken arches of the old aqueduct; an avenue of trees, with their play +of light and shadow, framing a distant view of St. Peter's; fragments +of ruined temples, with a glowing sky for background, and many distant +country scenes, with which Enid was as yet unacquainted. It was a +delight to Enid to see such pictures as these.</p> + +<p>"You paint yourself," said Miss Strutt, reminded of this by the way in +which Enid was observing her paintings.</p> + +<p>"I try to," said Enid, half in despair; "but I shall never, never do +anything to be compared with these."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will; and better things, I have no doubt, in time. Will you +bring some of your paintings to show me some day?"</p> + +<p>"If you would like to see them," said Enid; "but they are really not +worth showing."</p> + +<p>"Your modesty does you credit, my dear. I have little doubt your work +is better than you think. Anyhow, let me see it. I may be able to give +you a hint or two which may be useful."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I should be most grateful for them," said Enid eagerly. "I want +to take some lessons whilst I am in Rome. I suppose," she added, on a +sudden impulse, "you do not give lessons?"</p> + +<p>"I have never done so," said Miss Strutt. "I do not think I have +sufficient patience to teach; but I shall be very happy to give you any +help I can. I had myself a most excellent teacher."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Enid, interested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Herr Schmitz was my teacher."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you do not mean it!" cried Enid. "Was he not dreadfully hard to +please?"</p> + +<p>"He certainly was. You see, he has a very high standard, and nothing +short of the best will satisfy him. It was just that which made him so +good a teacher."</p> + +<p>"His own paintings, I suppose, are very fine?" said Enid.</p> + +<p>"They are, indeed. He is a genius. I owe much to him, for he has been a +true friend to me. He is kind at heart, although he has such a way of +riding rough-shod over people's feelings. I could take you to see his +pictures some day, if you would like."</p> + +<p>"I should like it immensely," said Enid.</p> + +<p>She felt strongly drawn to Miss Strutt, in spite of her peculiarities +of manner and odd dress. Her face, if melancholy, had a kind, +sympathetic expression as she talked, and Enid liked the sound of the +strong Scotch accent which years of residence abroad had not impaired.</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt's studio presented a marked contrast to the Studio Mariano. +The furniture was of the homeliest kind. There was nothing decorative +save some fine palms and ferns, carefully tended by their owner, a few +plaster casts, and Miss Strutt's own sketches, with which the walls +were covered. These last would have sufficed to beautify any room. The +arrangements for Miss Strutt's personal comfort were of the simplest +nature. It touched Enid to see the tiny caldron of hot water on the +stove, and the little earthenware teapot and solitary cup and saucer on +the table.</p> + +<p>"I could not bear to live all alone like this," she thought.</p> + +<p>Presently Miss Strutt produced another cup from the cupboard, and +invited her visitor to take some tea with her. Enid did not refuse. +The tea was excellent. In spite of the homeliness of her surroundings, +Enid was inclined to doubt whether Miss Strutt was so poor as Maud had +represented her to be. Such pictures as hers were hardly likely to lack +purchasers, especially as she could boast the friendship and approval +of Herr Schmitz. As they took their tea, the two talked more freely.</p> + +<p>"You have lived many years in Rome, I suppose?" said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen years," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"How long!" said Enid. "But you have been home—to Scotland, I +mean—during that time?"</p> + +<p>"Only once, and that is eleven years ago."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Then Rome has really become your home. You do not long to +return to Scotland?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Miss Strutt, in rather a sad voice; "I shall never go back +to Edinburgh again; I have no friends in Scotland now."</p> + +<p>"But you do not stay in Rome all the year?"</p> + +<p>"No; as a rule I go to Montepulciano, or some country place where I +can work out of doors for the summer. But I have passed more than one +summer in Rome."</p> + +<p>"And you are not lonely?" said Enid, suddenly asking the question she +had resolved not to ask.</p> + +<p>"Not now. I have my work and I have Nature. Ah! You young things cannot +understand how some of us older ones, whose lives lack so much that +seems to you desirable, learn to love Nature; how she reveals herself +to us, takes us to her bosom, unfolds to us her secrets; how her voice +becomes to us the very voice of God, soothing, guiding, teaching. The +weeks which I spend amongst the mountains are the happiest seasons of +my life. But if I talk in this way you will think me sentimental."</p> + +<p>"No, I shall not," said Enid. "Indeed, I understand you better than +that. I too love Nature."</p> + +<p>"I know you do; but—" Miss Strutt paused, and looked observantly with a +gentle, kindly air at the bright young face before her ere she went on. +"But you will never come so near to Nature as I have, because your life +will be quite different from mine. I can venture to prophesy that. You +are not made for a solitary life."</p> + +<p>"I have had no experience of solitude as yet," said Enid smiling. "I +certainly cannot imagine myself liking it."</p> + +<p>"You belong to a large family?"</p> + +<p>"There are seven of us," said Enid; "father and mother and seven +children, of whom five—is it not dreadful?—are girls."</p> + +<p>"I see nothing dreadful in it," said Miss Strutt. "I think you are very +happy."</p> + +<p>She asked a few questions about Enid's brothers and sisters, and Enid, +only too happy to talk of it, was soon giving her a full account of her +home life. The time passed so pleasantly thus that she was surprised to +hear the bell of a neighbouring convent begin to ring, which told that +it was nearly five o'clock.</p> + +<p>"I must go now," she said, rising; "Maud will wonder what has become of +me."</p> + +<p>"Will you come again?" asked Miss Strutt. "Believe me, although I have +grown used to solitude, a visit now and then from you will make a very +agreeable break in its monotony."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I shall be very pleased to come," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"And bring some of your paintings to show me when you come again. Will +you?"</p> + +<p>Enid promised that she would do so.</p> + +<p>As she emerged from the narrow passage which led to Miss Strutt's +studio, she met Julius Dakin descending the stairs.</p> + +<p>"And where do you spring from, Miss Mildmay?" he asked, when they had +shaken hands.</p> + +<p>"I have been in Miss Strutt's studio," said Enid. "Do you know Miss +Strutt?"</p> + +<p>"Only by sight," he said, a mischievous look in his dark eyes;—"only by +sight; but it is a great thing to know Miss Strutt by sight."</p> + +<p>"Now, I am not going to let you laugh at Miss Strutt," said Enid. "I +like her very much, and she paints beautifully. You would not laugh at +her paintings if you saw them."</p> + +<p>"No, should I not? One often sees paintings that are very amusing, +especially when they are not meant to be comical. But tell me about +Miss Strutt's paintings!" And he leaned against the banisters, +evidently in no hurry to move on.</p> + +<p>"She paints in water-colours; but I cannot describe her work. I wish +you would go and see her pictures some day."</p> + +<p>"Then I will, certainly. On what day does she receive?"</p> + +<p>"On Thursday afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she would think it strange of me to appear without an +introduction." said Dakin insinuatingly. "I wish you would be so kind +as to accompany me some afternoon, Miss Mildmay, and introduce me to +Miss Strutt?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly," said Enid carelessly; "Maud is coming down with me +some afternoon to see Miss Strutt's pictures, and there is no reason +why you should not join us if you would like to."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 32.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></figure> +<p class="t4"> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>This was not exactly what Julius Dakin desired; but it was impossible +to object to the arrangement.</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I should be most happy to do so," he said. "I will call for +you on Thursday afternoon, with your kind permission. I have just seen +Miss Marian; she has been working very hard to-day."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Enid, prepared to move on; but he made another effort to +detain her.</p> + +<p>"You are much interested in this Miss Strutt?"</p> + +<p>"I like her, and I feel sorry for her," said Enid simply. "She seems +to lead a very lonely life, and she works very hard. I wonder if her +pictures sell well. She has a good many to show."</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to buy one of her pictures?" asked Julius quickly.</p> + +<p>"I like you!" said Enid surprised. "That is entirely your own affair, +Mr. Dakin."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; I mean—I should have said—would you advise me to buy +one?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could not advise you, Mr. Dakin. I think the pictures good, but +I am no judge. My advice would be worth nothing."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken; it is worth a good deal to me."</p> + +<p>"Now you are flattering me, Mr. Dakin, and I will wish you good-day," +said Enid, retreating up the staircase.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, that is not flattery," he protested. "I am keeping strictly to +our compact. Do you not remember that we agreed to say to each other +exactly what we mean on every occasion?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think I made any promise," said Enid laughing; "and I +certainly did not agree to advise you with regard to buying pictures. +Good-bye!" And she ran up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Entering the studio, she found Maud engaged in arranging in vases a +profusion of exquisite flowers.</p> + +<p>"I met Mr. Dakin on the stairs," Enid began breathlessly. She was +determined there should be no concealment on this occasion.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has been here," said Maud. "Just look, Enid, what lovely +flowers he has brought me! He stayed here talking for some time. He +thinks I have made a good study of my model."</p> + +<p>Enid silently turned to look at her cousin's drawing.</p> + +<p>"It was good of him to bring me these flowers," said Maud, evidently +delighted with the gift; "such lots of heliotrope! He knows how I love +heliotrope."</p> + +<p>In truth, Julius Dakin had intended to present the flowers to both the +young ladies. They were no more for Maud than for Enid, but finding the +former alone, it had been difficult to explain this, and he had had to +endure the vexation of seeing Maud accept the flowers as a token of +devotion to herself.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +ENID'S MASTER<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>JULIUS DAKIN did not fail to appear at the Studio Mariano on the +following Thursday. In the company of the two girls, he paid his visit +to Miss Strutt, and Enid was pleased to find how highly he appreciated +that lady's work. Maud too admired it warmly, though it seemed to Enid +that she was rather disposed to patronise the "little old maid," as she +always called Miss Strutt. She invited Miss Strutt to take tea at her +studio, and the invitation was accepted, though Miss Strutt stipulated +that she might come when Miss Marian and her cousin were alone, as she +shrank from meeting many people.</p> + +<p>"The life I lead does not fit me for society," she said. "Your friends +would find me odd and queer. Oh yes, they would, my dear; don't attempt +to deny it." She checked Maud, who was about to interpose a kind word. +"My ways are odd. I must confess I do not understand the modern ideas; +I cannot talk slang of any kind—fashionable, artistic, or what you +will. I should be quite out of place in the midst of such persons as +you draw about you."</p> + +<p>"I think you are mistaken," said Maud, kindly; "but it shall be as you +like. Enid and I shall only be too glad to have you to ourselves. I +will show you all my things, and you shall give me the benefit of your +candid criticism."</p> + +<p>For Maud still cherished the delusion that she desired candid criticism.</p> + +<p>"You might invite me," suggested Dakin, playfully; "I should like to +make one of the party. You would not object to meeting me, would you, +Miss Strutt? I am perfectly harmless."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Miss Strutt, shaking her head. "No, +indeed, you must not be admitted. A gentleman is always such a +distraction. We should have no quiet chat if you were there."</p> + +<p>"What an insinuation!" exclaimed Julius, in an injured tone. "One would +think I were given to monopolising the conversation."</p> + +<p>When they had quitted Miss Strutt's studio, Julius returned with the +girls to their own, and diverted himself there for some little time.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, as he was about to take his leave, "my mother +may be expected to reach home by the end of the week. The steamer is +due at Genoa to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am glad to hear that," said Maud, eagerly. "I have missed Mrs. +Dakin so much."</p> + +<p>"My father and I have been very dull without her," said Julius. +"One cannot entertain when the lady of the house is absent; but now +I suppose my mother will receive her friends as usual on Wednesday +evenings; and I shall hope to have the pleasure of seeing you, Miss +Marian, on those occasions, and you, Miss Mildmay."</p> + +<p>"We shall be delighted to come," said Maud. "Mrs. Dakin's receptions +are always most enjoyable."</p> + +<p>"My mother is bringing a young American beauty, Miss Blanche Amory, +back with her," observed Julius, tranquilly. "She has been fascinating +the fashionable world of New York, and is now coming to exercise her +spells in this European city. You will be charmed with her, Miss +Marian."</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" said Maud, a little dubiously. "Is she so very beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that is a matter of taste. 'Beauty,' you know, 'is in the eye of +the beholder.' I have seen women whom I admire far more than I do Miss +Amory; but still there are artists who rave about her."</p> + +<p>"How very dreadful for their friends!" said Enid.</p> + +<p>Julius laughed.</p> + +<p>"You are satirical, Miss Mildmay," he said. "You have a quiet way +of letting us know that you find the conversation of us lesser +mortals sadly frivolous. But what have you been doing in the way of +sight-seeing since I last saw you? Are you still fascinated with the +ruins of Rome?"</p> + +<p>"More than ever, I think," said Enid; "only I wish I understood them +better. If I had known in advance that I should spend this winter in +Rome, I could have read up for it. One feels one's ignorance dreadfully +here."</p> + +<p>Julius thought of a young lady from England, whom he had one day in +the previous spring conducted through the sculpture galleries of the +Capitol, and who, when he told her they were in the hall of the Dying +Gladiator, had said, with an assumption of interest,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, so this is the hall in which the Gladiator died."</p> + +<p>Enid had been so far from betraying ignorance to him that he had +actually wondered to find her so thoroughly acquainted with the history +of Rome. But it must be owned that Julius Dakin had not been fortunate +in his acquaintance with young ladies.</p> + +<p>"If you are disposed for hard reading," he observed, "my father has +several standard works on ancient Rome in his library, and I am sure he +would be most happy to lend them to you—or to Miss Marian," he added, +mischievously.</p> + +<p>"Please don't include me," cried Maud. "I would not read such books to +save my life. I don't pretend to any knowledge of or any interest in +the old kings and emperors, only I feel grateful to them for having +left us such picturesque ruins."</p> + +<p>"That is frank, at any rate," said Julius, laughing. Then he shook +hands with the girls and took his departure.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Miss Strutt paid her promised visit to Miss Marian's studio. She raised +herself in that young lady's estimation by the taste and discrimination +she displayed in her admiration of her pretty things. She praised too +as much of Miss Marian's work as she honestly could praise; and if she +thought more highly of the little paintings Enid showed her, she was +careful to conceal her opinion of their merits. Although she lived such +a solitary life, and never went into society, Miss Strutt had a shrewd +knowledge of human nature, and keen insight into character. She saw +that it would be an unfortunate thing for Enid if the jealousy from +which such vanity as Maud Marian's is seldom free, were to be excited +by the perception that her cousin's work was more highly appreciated +than her own.</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt was glad, therefore, when she presented herself at the +Studio Mariano a few days later, to find Enid alone. She had begged to +be excused from accompanying her cousin, who had gone to a friend's "At +home," and was working away very happily alone.</p> + +<p>"Are you very busy?" asked Miss Strutt. "I came to ask if you would +come down to my studio for a little while."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," said Enid, beginning to unbutton her apron. "I cannot +do much more till this wash has dried."</p> + +<p>"Please bring those studies with you that you were showing me the other +day," said Miss Strutt—"the daffodils and the group of apples, and +anything else that you have which is good."</p> + +<p>Enid could not imagine why Miss Strutt should wish to see these things +again; but she willingly did as she was asked.</p> + +<p>Entering Miss Strutt's studio, she was surprised to find Herr Schmitz +there. He greeted her very kindly; but Enid was overwhelmed with dismay +when she discovered that it was for his benefit that she had been asked +to bring her paintings.</p> + +<p>Without heeding her protestations, Miss Strutt took them from her, and +placed them one after another upon an easel before the master's eyes. +Enid stood by, feeling ready to sink through the floor, and scarce +daring to lift her eyes to his face. Never had she been more painfully +aware of the defects in her work.</p> + +<p>But she need not have been so much afraid. The dreadful pause, during +which the master looked at each study without uttering a word, was over +at last, and Enid's suspense was relieved by the emphatic "Good," which +Herr Schmitz uttered.</p> + +<p>"Good," he said again. "As I told you before, you have eyes, you see +form, you see colour. You will do, if you work. But you must really +work; you must not play with Art. Are you afraid of work?"</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Enid; "if it were worth while for me to work very +hard I would do so."</p> + +<p>"It is always worth while to work one's best at whatever one attempts. +There is no road to success save the painful, uphill one of hard work. +You have a good chance if you try your best. I will tell you what you +should do."</p> + +<p>Enid listened earnestly to the instructions he proceeded to give her; +but what was her astonishment when she found him offering to give her +two or three lessons himself.</p> + +<p>"Simply as a friend," he said, for he no longer gave lessons save under +very exceptional circumstances.</p> + +<p>Enid knew not how to express her gratitude for his kindness. Awe, +indeed, mingled with her pleasure in accepting it, for there was +something rather appalling in the idea of learning of Herr Schmitz. But +he was thoroughly in earnest about it, and insisted on her fixing a day +for her first visit to his studio. Then bidding her and Miss Strutt a +friendly good-day, he departed.</p> + +<p>"I congratulate you," said Miss Strutt to Enid; "there are few young +aspirants who win such approval from Herr Schmitz."</p> + +<p>"It almost frightens me," said Enid. "I fear he thinks too highly of +my work, and I shall disappoint him in the end. But he is really very +kind."</p> + +<p>"He is, indeed," said Miss Strutt, "though his extreme irritability +often leads people to suppose the opposite. You must not mind if he +gets cross sometimes, and says rude things to you."</p> + +<p>"That will be rather hard," said Enid; "but if he begins to call me +names some day, I'll try to remember what you say, and keep my temper."</p> + +<p>She went away in high glee, eager to tell her cousin the wonderful +thing that had happened. In spite of Herr Schmitz's admonitions with +respect to work, she could accomplish little more that afternoon. She +was far too excited; and feeling at last that she would only spoil her +painting if she worked longer upon it in her present mood, she washed +her brushes, set the studio in order, locked the door, and went home to +the "pension."</p> + +<p>Maud came in a little later, and found Enid awaiting her in her room.</p> + +<p>Maud was tired, and rather out of humour; but Enid, in her eagerness +to tell her news, did not perceive this. She began upon it the moment +her cousin entered. Maud heard her through without saying a word; but +Enid wondered to see how the colour mounted in her cousin's face as +she listened. Ere she had done, Maud had turned her back upon her, and +was standing apparently absorbed in studying her own reflection in +the mirror. In truth, Maud was experiencing a bitter moment. It was +impossible for Enid to know the anger and envy the communication she +had so innocently made had roused in her cousin's breast. She could +not know that Maud, on her first coming to Rome, had been ambitious of +securing lessons from Herr Schmitz, and had sought an introduction to +him with that view; but the master, as soon as he saw some of her work, +had brusquely declined to receive her as a pupil. But as Maud continued +silent, Enid knew instinctively that her cousin was annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not speak, Maud?" she asked presently. "Are you not pleased +that I should have lessons of Herr Schmitz?"</p> + +<p>"What would you have me say, Enid?" demanded Maud in a cold, hard tone. +"How can it make the least difference to me of whom you take lessons?"</p> + +<p>"But it is so kind of Herr Schmitz. I thought you would be glad. Miss +Strutt says he hardly ever gives lessons now, and he has always been +very particular what pupils he took."</p> + +<p>"Miss Strutt is an old simpleton. She must know that it is only a whim +of Herr Schmitz. He is the most whimsical man in the world. I wish you +joy of your lessons, Enid."</p> + +<p>"I expect to enjoy them very much," said Enid, feeling nettled. "It +will be a great advantage to learn of such a master."</p> + +<p>"Of course you think you are on the way to becoming famous now," said +Maud, scornfully; "but it takes more than a few lessons from Herr +Schmitz, however he may flatter you, to make a great painter, let me +tell you, Enid."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I was aware of that before," said Enid, coolly; "but I +thought you had had sufficient experience of Herr Schmitz to know that +he is not given to flattery."</p> + +<p>Her words carried a sting which Enid did not intend to convey. She had +forgotten how bluntly Herr Schmitz had criticised her cousin's drawings +when he made his call at her studio; but Maud, in whose mind the memory +of his words still rankled, believed that Enid deliberately reminded +her of them.</p> + +<p>Enid was sorely hurt by the way in which her news had been received. +She had come, glad and eager, to share her happiness with her cousin, +and had met with a sharp rebuff. But she would not show how much she +felt it. She was a proud little person in her way, and she quitted +her cousin's presence with an air of quiet dignity, of which Maud was +conscious in the midst of her annoyance.</p> + +<p>Alone in her own room, however, Enid could no longer keep back her +tears.</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand it," she said to herself; "why should Maud be +annoyed at the thought of my taking lessons of Herr Schmitz? Sometimes +I fear she is beginning to dislike me. Whatever shall I do if she does? +It will be dreadful being always together if we cannot be friends. And +I thought everything was going to be so delightful!"</p> + +<p>Then she remembered that her mother had warned her that she must not +expect to have gold without alloy. How true the words were proving! But +the thought of her mother brought comfort. There could be no doubt that +she would be pleased to hear of the kind encouragement Herr Schmitz had +given her daughter, and his proposal to give her lessons in painting. +So Enid took her desk, and sat down to relieve her wounded feelings by +writing a long letter to the mother of whose loving sympathy she felt +so sure.</p> + +<p>And Maud sat alone, nursing the bitter, wrathful feelings that resulted +from mortified vanity. She, poor girl, had no mother to whom she could +unburden her heart, and she had never been wont to confide in her +father.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +MRS. DAKIN'S RECEPTION<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MRS. DAKIN was a tall, graceful woman, young-looking for her +five-and-forty years, with sparkling dark eyes and a vivacious manner. +On the day of her reception, she had a warm welcome for Maud, who, +in the pretty gown she had worn at her aunt's wedding, was certainly +looking her best.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dakin quickly contrived to say in her ear,—"You look charming +to-night, my dear. There is no fear of my New York beauty eclipsing +you—" A speech which delighted Maud, and enabled her to meet the young +lady with equanimity.</p> + +<p>Yet in truth, Miss Blanche Amory was a very fascinating young person. +Her beauty was of a purely Grecian type. Her small shapely head, the +broad, low brow over which the light brown hair fell in such bewitching +little curls, the straight, delicate nose, the small curved mouth, and +the lovely violet eyes, were already inspiring every artist present +with an eager desire to paint her portrait. Her bearing was marked by a +piquant audacity of speech and action which the English ladies present +decided to be "thoroughly American," whilst her dress had the quality +which Europeans distinguish by the significant word "chic."</p> + +<p>"Is this your first visit to Rome?" enquired Maud, by way of opening +the conversation.</p> + +<p>"No; I was here with my parents five years ago," replied the beauty, +with the high nasal intonation peculiar to her nation.</p> + +<p>"Then you have seen most of the sights?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I guess I did enough sight-seeing when I was over before. I don't +mean to go round with my guidebook any more. If there's anything new to +be seen, I'd like to see it—that's all."</p> + +<p>"I dare say we can accommodate you," said Julius Dakin, who stood +at her elbow. "It will be a refreshing change. Most of our visitors +can interest themselves only in the old things of Rome, and despise +everything belonging to the present century."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I guess—musty old churches, underground tombs, and impossible +relics. But that's not my taste. I like to keep above ground whilst I +can; and I don't know that I should be any the better for seeing the +chains of St. Peter or the head of St. Paul. I went into the burial +vaults of the Cappuccini and had a look at the old skeleton monks when +I was last in Rome, and it made me feel sort of queer-like."</p> + +<p>"It is not an agreeable sight, certainly," said Maud, with a little +shudder. "But there are many beautiful things to be seen in Rome, and +the country round is most interesting. I suppose you explored it when +you were here before."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure we did. My father is not one to do things by halves, +and I am his own child in that. Before we came to Italy, we were in +Greece, and we went all through the mountains on horseback. We roughed +it then, I can tell you. Often I was in the saddle for twelve hours +at a time; and such riding as it was!—no roads. We just had to make +tracks across country, fording streams and leaping gullies. It was hard +work—but how I did enjoy it!"</p> + +<p>"You are such an experienced traveller, Miss Amory, that you make me +feel quite small," observed Julius Dakin. "I have had no adventures +that can compare with yours."</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess I've travelled all round Europe, anyway," replied the +fair American; "but I have not done India yet. I must have a try at +that some day."</p> + +<p>Not Julius Dakin alone was feeling small. Maud Marian was made aware +that she was but an ordinary mortal after all. She could boast no such +achievements as the young American continued to describe, and her +knowledge of the world she lived in now presented itself to her as +pitifully limited.</p> + +<p>Enid meanwhile was listening with quiet amusement to all that passed. +Maud presently disengaged herself from the group about Miss Amory, and +began to move through the rooms, meeting at every few steps with some +acquaintance. Enid, who found herself alone amidst strangers, had a +momentary sense of dreariness. She glanced round the room, and her eyes +at length fell on Julius Dakin, who was making his way to her.</p> + +<p>"Found at last!" he said, as he came up. "I was wondering where you had +hidden yourself. Will you allow me to take you to the library? There is +something there I should like to show you."</p> + +<p>Enid consented willingly.</p> + +<p>In the library they found Mr. Dakin with one or two visitors. Enid +began to examine the books, and was delighted when the old gentleman +gave her permission to borrow any she liked, and pointed out those that +would be of most interest to her in her study of Roman antiquities. +Talking to him, she forgot that she had been brought to the library for +a special purpose; but Julius waited patiently till her attention was +disengaged.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Mildmay," he said at last, "I will show you something that I +think you will be pleased to see."</p> + +<p>He led her into a small ante-room and raised the lamp he carried, +so that its light fell upon a picture hanging on the wall. It was a +painting of the Campagna with the ruin of an old tomb, and some grand +stone pines standing up against the blue sky. It was already familiar +to Enid, and a favourite with her. She had thought it one of the best +of Miss Strutt's paintings.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she exclaimed involuntarily, in her surprise. "You have bought +that of Miss Strutt! How good of you!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he replied, with a look of pleasure. "It was my father +who bought it, and he was only too glad to secure such a charming +little picture."</p> + +<p>"But you took him to see Miss Strutt's pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I was guilty of that, certainly; but you would not have had +me keep to myself my knowledge of the good things that were to be seen +there?"</p> + +<p>This was unanswerable. Enid was perhaps foolishly delighted that +the purchase had been made, and she could not rid her mind of the +impression that her influence had played a considerable part in the +matter. She believed that Julius had wished to give her pleasure. And +yet how little ground there was for such a fancy!</p> + +<p>If Julius Dakin had been actuated by any such motive, he was rewarded +as he watched Enid's undisguised pleasure. They lingered awhile in +the ante-room, talking and looking at the pictures. When at last they +returned to the drawing-room, they had been absent more than half an +hour, but to Enid it had seemed but a few minutes.</p> + +<p>Maud Marian was seated near the door by which Enid and Julius entered. +Enid moved towards her cousin, intending to tell her of the purchase +Mr. Dakin had made; but ere she could reach her side, Maud rose, said +a few words to the gentleman with whom she was talking, and passed +rapidly to the other side of the room.</p> + +<p>Enid was astonished. She felt sure Maud had seen her come in, and +wondered that she should turn from her in that way. Had she unwittingly +offended her cousin again? Maud had recovered from her annoyance on +learning that Herr Schmitz had proposed to give lessons to her cousin. +The breach between them was to all appearance mended, but Enid was +no longer at her ease with her cousin. She was subject to fear lest +her words or actions should be misunderstood, and give offence. As +she lanced at Maud now across the crowded room, she could see that +something had occurred to disturb her cousin's equanimity, though Maud +was making an effort to hide the fact that she was not enjoying herself.</p> + +<p>Julius placed Enid under his mother's care, and then strolled off to +where the American beauty was still surrounded by a little court of +admirers. Enid wondered if the general attention bestowed upon this +young lady were a source of mortification to Maud. But now Mrs. Dakin +introduced her to two young English girls, who were very pleased to +meet with a girl-compatriot. The three chatted together in lively +fashion for some time, till the mother of the girls came to take them +away. The room was already thinning. The departure of the girls, and +of one or two others who moved away at the same time, made a stillness +about Enid, in which the words of two ladies of mature age, who were +seated on a settee behind her, fell distinctly on her ears.</p> + +<p>"Now I wonder if Mrs. Dakin means her son to marry that American +beauty," said one.</p> + +<p>"No doubt she would like him to wed one of her countrywomen," replied +the other; "and the girl is an heiress, I believe."</p> + +<p>"As for that, he might afford to marry for love, I should think," +returned the first speaker. "It is all very well for his mother to +choose for him, but he may be of another mind. Last winter everyone +said he would marry Miss Marian."</p> + +<p>"Well, he has not paid her much attention to-night, for I have been +watching him," remarked the other. "There was another girl he seemed +very friendly with."</p> + +<p>"Well, really! If you are going to take note of every girl Julius Dakin +regards with friendliness, you will have enough to do. He knows how to +make himself agreeable to ladies if ever a young man did. He has just +that way, don't you know, that makes every girl he talks with suppose +that he admires her."</p> + +<p>Enid heard no more. She rose and moved away with burning cheeks. She +was greatly disturbed by the idle words she had overheard. She resented +them for her cousin's sake; but not for that alone. Her own self-esteem +was wounded, and she even felt irritated with Julius Dakin.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he thinks I admire him," she thought with disdain; "but I +do not. He is handsome, of course; but as I have often told Alice, I +dislike handsome men."</p> + +<p>Julius Dakin was unfortunate that evening, for Maud also was feeling +annoyed with him, though from a different reason. Miss Guy, who was +staying at the same pension, seeing Miss Marian not far from her, +presumed to approach that young lady, and, undeterred by her repellent +manner, began to talk to her. It was no liking for Maud which drew her +to her side. Miss Guy was not so obtuse as to be unaware that Miss +Marian desired to avoid her. She resented warmly the hauteur with which +that young lady invariably treated her when they met at table, and it +was with a malicious desire to wound her that she now addressed her. It +is marvellous how keen such persons are to discern the vulnerable point +at which a dart may be aimed.</p> + +<p>"Your cousin and Mr. Dakin seem to find the library very attractive, do +they not?" she observed, with apparent carelessness.</p> + +<p>Maud surveyed her for a moment with haughty astonishment ere she said—</p> + +<p>"Excuse me. I do not understand to what you refer." She had missed +Julius from the room, but was not aware that he had quitted it in +Enid's company.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dakin took your cousin away to show her something in the library. +I am quite curious to know what it is that has detained them there for +half an hour."</p> + +<p>Maud changed colour for an instant, but her self-control did not fail +her.</p> + +<p>"If you ask Mr. Dakin when he returns, I have no doubt he will be +pleased to satisfy your curiosity," she said, in a tone of cold +indifference.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I should not get much for my pains," laughed Miss Guy. +"When a young gentleman is smitten with a girl, anything will serve as +an excuse for taking her aside. It is easy to see that Mr. Julius Dakin +takes a warm interest in your cousin; and no wonder! For she is really +a nice, compact little person."</p> + +<p>Maud rose from her seat, white with anger. "Excuse me, Miss Guy," she +said, with icy composure; "I must ask you to reserve your remarks upon +my cousin for some other listener."</p> + +<p>And she swept away, leaving Miss Guy to experience a sense of +discomfiture. But that frame of mind was so foreign to her nature that +it could not last long. Her self-complacency quickly revived, and she +said to herself, with an agreeable sense of her own cleverness—</p> + +<p>"After all, I hit the mark! She would not have been so angry if she had +not cared for him."</p> + +<p>Maud moved towards the door through which she supposed Enid and Dakin +would return from the library. She seated herself in a position to +observe their entrance. In truth, it was not many minutes ere they +appeared, but the time seemed long to Maud as she watched with jealous +eyes, and her anger increased with every minute that passed. When they +came in, her indignation had reached such a heat that, fearful of +betraying too openly her annoyance, she made a hasty movement to avoid +speaking to her cousin.</p> + +<p>Her feelings did not soften as the evening wore on; but she got them +under control. Annoyed as she felt with Julius Dakin, she was far +more angry with Enid, though what she had to resent in Enid's conduct +it would be hard to say. But she meant to show no annoyance; she was +anxious to maintain her usual demeanour towards them both. So she +smiled and spoke brightly as she bade Julius Dakin good-night.</p> + +<p>It was Enid whose manner towards him was cold. Maud noticed its +constraint, and was puzzled, till it occurred to her that Enid was +perhaps seeking to deceive her.</p> + +<p>"She does not look deceitful," she thought; "but I have read that there +are persons with an open, frank air, who yet have a perfect talent for +dissimulation."</p> + +<p>As soon as she was in the carriage, Maud gave way to ill-temper.</p> + +<p>"It has been a most stupid evening," she said. "If Mrs. Dakin's +receptions are all to be like that, I shall not trouble to attend many +of them. The fuss made over that Miss Amory was sickening. And after +all, she is no great beauty."</p> + +<p>"She is very pretty," said Enid, decidedly.</p> + +<p>"Not more so than plenty of other girls; and her Yankee accent is +terrible."</p> + +<p>Enid made no reply, and for some minutes they rolled along in silence.</p> + +<p>At last, Enid roused herself and said, "Mr. Dakin has bought one of +Miss Strutt's pictures, Maud. Mr. Julius took me into the library to +see it."</p> + +<p>For a few moments Maud did not respond. Then she said with a strange +bitterness in her tones, "He might have spent his money better; but I +suppose he bought it out of charity, to help the poor old thing."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I think he had his money's worth," said Enid, with warmth. "It +is a lovely little picture."</p> + +<p>"Of course you are a judge," said Maud, with quiet sarcasm. "When +you have lived a little longer in Rome, you will perhaps see things +differently."</p> + +<p>Enid felt that she was being made to see things differently now. +Certain delusions were vanishing, and leaving in their stead a blank +sense of pain. She felt weary and home-sick to-night.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next morning, as they went to their studio, Enid looked in +upon Miss Strutt. The little woman's face wore an unusually serene +expression, and she greeted Enid with a bright smile.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to see you," she said; "I have to thank you—it was all your +doing, I know."</p> + +<p>"What was my doing?"</p> + +<p>"That Mr. Dakin bought my little painting."</p> + +<p>"I had nothing to do with that," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you had," said Miss Strutt, sagely shaking her head. "I know +better; you had everything to do with it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you are mistaken," said Enid. "I am very glad that Mr. Dakin +bought it. I saw it last night in his library, and it looks so well +where it is hung."</p> + +<p>"I am really very grateful to you," said Miss Strutt, who was not to be +persuaded that she owed Enid no debt of gratitude. "It is a great help +to me. Some day, perhaps, I may tell you why I have to work so hard, +but not now. You are impatient to get to your work; but do not work too +hard, my child. You do not look so bright as usual this morning. Is it +work, or dissipation, that has fatigued you?"</p> + +<p>"Dissipation, I fear," said Enid laughing.</p> + +<p>Already the heaviness of her mood was gone. She could not help sharing +Miss Strutt's pleasure over the purchase of her picture. And as she +ascended to the Studio Mariano, she thought more kindly of Julius Dakin.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +COMPLICATIONS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ENID continued to enjoy her lessons with Adela Ravani. The pleasing +impression made on her when first she saw her young teacher did not +wear off. She was charmed with the girl's beauty and grace, and the +almost childish confidence and simplicity she displayed in their talks +together.</p> + +<p>Enid was quick at languages, and she soon began to understand what was +said to her in Italian. The lesson usually ended with a confidential +talk between the girls. Adela would confide to Enid some of the +troubles of her life. She often spoke of the brother, many years older +than herself, whom she seemed to regard with fear rather than love. +This brother and his wife shared the home with Adela and her mother, +and it was clear to Enid, from what the girl said, that he was the head +of the house, and everyone else had to bend to his will. Adela appeared +to have no affection for her sister-in-law, whom she described as full +of deceit, and capable of the most spiteful actions.</p> + +<p>"She is a spy," she said once; "she is always watching me; and she +tells Francesco all she sees. I have the greatest difficulty in hiding +things from her."</p> + +<p>Enid was startled by the light thus thrown on Adela's life.</p> + +<p>"But what can you have to conceal?" she asked. "Why should you mind +your sister-in-law knowing all you do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you do not understand," said Adela. "I should never be able to do +anything if I let them know about it. Francesco would have me live the +life of a nun. You cannot think how angry he was when he found out that +I was giving lessons, for mamma and I kept it from him as long as we +could."</p> + +<p>"But why should he be angry?" asked Enid in surprise.</p> + +<p>"He thought it beneath the dignity of our family. The Ravanis are one +of the oldest families in Rome, and the daughters of such houses do +not earn money," said Adela, with considerable dignity. "But we are so +poor, mamma and I, and Francesco is not generous. Look at my slipper, +signorina—do you see how I have had to mend it? That will show you I +have not much money to spend on my attire."</p> + +<p>Enid glanced down at the dainty velvet slipper, and admired not only +the skill with which it was mended, but the beauty of the perfect +little foot it adorned.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could sew like that," she said; "but I think your brother is +mistaken in deeming it beneath anyone's dignity to teach. In England, +women are proud of being able to support themselves, and teachers are +held in honour. At least they are by all but vulgar-minded people," she +added.</p> + +<p>"Are they?" said Adela. "I like teaching—or should if all my pupils +were like you. But Francesco will not be happy till he puts an end to +it. He is looking out for a husband for me; but it is not so easy to +find one, you see, because I have no dowry."</p> + +<p>"Looking out for a husband for you!" exclaimed Enid, startled, as well +she might be, for the idea is shocking to English notions.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is his duty, you know," said Adela calmly; but Enid saw that a +cloud had fallen on her face.</p> + +<p>"But surely not without respect to your wishes in the matter!" +protested Enid. "You would not take a husband of his choosing merely."</p> + +<p>"It is our custom," said Adela. "Of course," she added, with a quick +blush, "I have read in books that people sometimes marry for love, and +I should think myself that that was the happier way. But my mother says +one should not think of love till one is married."</p> + +<p>"And my mother would say it was very wrong of any woman to marry a man +whom she did not truly love and reverence," said Enid, with some warmth.</p> + +<p>"Would she?" said Adela, with sudden interest. "I wish my mother +thought so. And oh, I do hope, it will be long, long ere my brother +finds me a husband!"</p> + +<p>Enid did not wonder that she spoke with such energy and in so troubled +a tone.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Well," said Enid later, as she repeated to her cousin what had passed, +"I never felt more inclined to—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> +"Thank the goodness and the grace<br> + That on my birth has smiled."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"I would not be an Italian girl for the world. How dreadful for Adela +to feel that her brother can hand her over, to any man who is willing +to take her without a dowry!"</p> + +<p>Maud shrugged her shoulders. "It is the way here," she said. "A +well-born Roman girl never dreams choosing a husband for herself. She +has no voice in the matter; it is her duty to obey the will of her +parents."</p> + +<p>"But if she should love someone else?" said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Then she would commit a grave indiscretion. My dear Enid, a well-bred +girl would never allow herself to fall in love."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not; but suppose she found it impossible to love the gentleman +her father had chosen for her?"</p> + +<p>Maud shrugged her shoulders again. "She would have to make the best +of it, I am afraid. There is one thing to be said—Italian girls are +not allowed friendly intercourse with gentlemen as we are, so there +is less risk of their forming unsuitable attachments. They go nowhere +unattended. An Italian mother is rarely seen without her daughters; +they drive with her, they pay calls with her, they receive with her, +till they attain freedom by marriage."</p> + +<p>"Like those three girls we are always seeing about with their +mother," said Enid; "all three dressed exactly alike, even to their +shoe-strings, and all wearing the same bored expression. I have noticed +that if a gentleman approaches their carriage on the Pincio, they +appear to say only two or three words to him. It is mamma who does the +talking."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Still, I believe the life of Italian girls is beginning to +improve. They are being better educated than they used to be, and a +higher mental culture must inevitably bring in for them a freer life."</p> + +<p>"Poor things! I trust it may speedily," said Enid. "It is deplorable to +see how poor Adela's spirit is crushed by the tyranny of her brother +and his wife; and I am afraid she practises deception to evade it."</p> + +<p>"Likely enough," said Maud, with scorn in her tone; "most Italian girls +have a talent for dissimulation."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next time Enid went to the Casa Ravani to take her lesson in +Italian, Adela's countenance as she entered the room plainly showed +that she had been weeping violently. Her voice was so tremulous, her +manner so agitated, that Enid could see that it was only by a strong +effort that she could maintain composure. Wishing to help her to gain +control of herself, Enid for a while took no notice of her evident +distress. The pupil's exercises were examined and corrected almost in +silence; the reading which followed was scarcely interrupted, though +Enid was conscious that she made one or two slips in pronunciation. But +when the time came which they usually devoted to conversation, Enid +could no longer rest in ignorance of what was troubling her companion.</p> + +<p>"Now, Adela, what is it?" she said, as soon as the books were closed. +"You are in trouble, and I insist upon knowing the cause, unless it is +something I really may not know."</p> + +<p>But it seemed more than Adela could bear even to speak of her trouble. +In a moment her large dark eyes were full of tears, her lips quivered +when she tried to speak, and she could only sob.</p> + +<p>"Now don't—don't," said Enid soothingly. "Just tell me all about it, +and then perhaps it will not seem so bad. What has happened to distress +you so?"</p> + +<p>"It has come," sobbed Adela; "I knew it must come some day; but oh, I +hoped it would not be for a long time yet."</p> + +<p>"What has come?" asked Enid, full of wonder.</p> + +<p>"My doom," said Adela, with a tragic gesture. "Oh, signorina, if only I +were an English girl! If I were free, like you!"</p> + +<p>Light was beginning to break upon Enid's bewildered mind.</p> + +<p>"Free," she said; "do you mean free to marry or not, as one likes? Is +that your trouble, Adela? Does your brother want to make you marry +someone against your will?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, you have guessed," said Adela with another sob; "my brother +has found a husband for me!"</p> + +<p>"Who is he? You do not care for him?"</p> + +<p>"Care for him! How should I? I have only seen him once. He is old +and he is ugly; but he is rich. My mother says I shall have my own +carriage, and drive on the Pincio every day. But what of that? Oh, +Enid, can you not guess? My heart is breaking."</p> + +<p>"But why should you marry this man if you do not wish to do so?" asked +Enid, with indignation in her tones. "It is preposterous to think of +such a thing. You must refuse to yield to your brother, Adela; you have +surely a right to a will of your own in this matter."</p> + +<p>"I dare not," said Adela; "it would be a most unheard-of thing. Indeed, +I could not be so undutiful; I should break my mother's heart. She is +so pleased, my poor mother, to think that I shall have a home of my +own; and she will live with me, for he has agreed to that."</p> + +<p>Enid looked grave.</p> + +<p>"It is not already a settled thing, Adela?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite; but in a few days it will be," said Adela gloomily. "I see +no way of escape. And it is not only that—oh, Enid, how shall I tell +you? Can you not guess the rest?"</p> + +<p>"The rest!" said Enid. "Have you not told me all the trouble? Indeed, +it seems bad enough."</p> + +<p>"Unhappily," said Adela—and the rich colour which suddenly suffused her +face was more significant than her words—"we Italian girls also have +hearts."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Enid in a startled tone. "Is it as bad as that—there is +someone else you care for?"</p> + +<p>"I could not help it," murmured Adela, her face crimson with shame. "I +saw him at Montepulciano last summer; we were there for three months, +and he was there too, making sketches—for he is an artist. We were +living outside the town; and the place was so quiet and countrified +that mamma was less particular about me. I could walk out alone, or go +into the vineyards with the good countrywoman at whose house we lodged. +And I often saw him. He had a way of finding out where I was likely to +be. He liked to talk to me, and I—I liked to see him too, I suppose. +Once he made a sketch of me. Ah, signorina, you are shocked!"</p> + +<p>"No, not shocked," said Enid, smiling; "and please do not call me +signorina. It was all very natural. I am sure I do not wonder that he +wanted to see you; but it is a pity you could only meet in that stolen +sort of way. But if he really loves you, Adela, as I suppose he does, +why does he not come forward and ask your brother's permission to marry +you?"</p> + +<p>"That would never do!" exclaimed Adela, looking frightened at the very +idea. "Oh, how angry my brother would be! Lucio is only an artist, and +an unknown one. He has no money. Do you think Francesco would consider +him a fit match for a Ravani?"</p> + +<p>There was a curious ring of pride in Adela's tones. It seemed as if +she too were inclined to disparage her lover's calling, and deem him +unworthy on account of it to wed with one of her ancient name.</p> + +<p>"I do not know what your brother's opinion may be," said Enid, warmly; +"but it seems to me that every true artist has a rank of his own, and +that ordinary mortals, whatever their birth may be, must look up to +such a one. Surely you agree with me, Adela?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; I never thought about it," said Adela, opening her eyes. +"But of course I think Lucio is very clever, and I can assure you his +family is not to be despised. He has an uncle who is a rich banker at +Florence. He has no children, and Lucio was to have been his heir; +but his uncle grew angry with him because he was determined to be an +artist, and would not work in the bank. Now he will have nothing to do +with Lucio, and the poor fellow must make his own way in the world."</p> + +<p>"Well, that is not such a bad thing," said Enid. "If he has talent +and works hard, he will succeed in time, you may be sure. You must be +content to wait a few years for your happiness—that is all."</p> + +<p>"Ah, how you talk, Enid! As if it could ever be! You forget that my +brother is determined to marry me soon as possible, and has already +found a husband for me."</p> + +<p>"Adela, I shall lose all patience with you if you talk in that way. I +begin to think that you do not really love Lucio. If you do, you will +not dream of letting yourself be married to someone else."</p> + +<p>"What a thing to say!" exclaimed Adela, raising her hands in protest. +"But you do not understand; it is because you are English that the +affair seems to you so simple. How can I set myself in opposition to my +mother? You would not like to make your mother unhappy."</p> + +<p>"I should not, indeed," said Enid; "yet I hope I should have strength +to withstand my mother if she wanted me to do something wrong; though +really I find it impossible to imagine such a thing in connection with +my mother."</p> + +<p>"And my mother would say it was right; it was my duty to obey her," +said Adela. "Don't you see how difficult it is?"</p> + +<p>"It is perplexing, certainly," said Enid; "yet I feel convinced in my +own mind that you will be doing a wrong, even a wicked thing, if you +marry this man whom your brother has chosen for you, when your heart is +given to Lucio. Surely, if you tell your mother the whole truth, she +will not continue to urge you to this marriage. Be brave, Adela. Don't +be afraid to oppose your brother. He cannot drag you to the church by +main force."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare not think what he may not do," said Adela with a shudder.</p> + +<p>It was but too evident that she lacked courage, and Enid's efforts +to inspire her with the same were not apparently attended with much +success. They talked for some time longer, and when Enid rose to go +away, Adela timidly asked if she would do her a kindness.</p> + +<p>"By all means," said Enid, heartily; "what is it?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to go to-morrow to the Villa Borghese; and you know my +mother does not allow me to walk out alone. Could you accompany me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; I shall be delighted if it is a fine afternoon. I have not +been to the villa yet, but I have seen it from the Pincio, and the +walks look very inviting."</p> + +<p>"They are prettier in the spring, when the anemones are in flower; but +it will be pleasant there to-morrow if the weather keeps like this. +Thank you so much for consenting; it is so good of you."</p> + +<p>Enid went away wondering that Adela should profess so much gratitude +over what promised to be a mutual pleasure.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>It wanted but a week to Christmas, but the next day was as bright and +beautiful as a day could be. The sky was of a soft, deep blue, the +sunshine brilliant, and the air delightfully fresh. Enid called for +Adela at the hour appointed. She found her already dressed for the +walk, and looking charming. There was no cloud on her face to-day, +nor did her beautiful dark eyes show any sign of tears. She chatted +so gaily as they walked towards the villa that Enid wondered if her +prospects had brightened, but refrained from asking any question, for +fear she should only remind her of her trouble.</p> + +<p>There were but few persons at the villa this afternoon. Enid was +delighted with the secluded, romantic walks, winding amid groves of +ilex, or shaded by tall pines breaking into green umbrella-shaped +foliage, which contrasted vividly with the blue of the sky. Presently +they approached an old fountain guarded by a stone nymph with a broken +nose.</p> + +<p>Enid's eyes were on the feathery fern fronds clustering about the base +of the fountain when she became aware that a young man had stepped from +the back of the fountain and was greeting Adela. She looked at him, and +recognised with some surprise a young Italian artist who had a studio +in the house in the Via Sistina, in which was the Studio Mariano. She +had once or twice encountered him on the stairs, and had been struck +with the exceeding courtesy of his manner as he bowed to her. Now, as +she noted the flush on Adela's cheek and the sparkle in her eyes, it +occurred to her that this could be none other than Lucio.</p> + +<p>"May I introduce Signor Torlono?" said Adela.</p> + +<p>And Enid returned the young man's bow, half amused and half annoyed +by this revelation of Adela's purpose in bringing her to the Villa +Borghese. It was by no means agreeable to Enid to play the part of a +third at such a rendezvous, and she felt vexed with Adela for having +beguiled her into doing so. Yet as they strolled on together, Enid had +so much consideration for the lovers that she occasionally paused to +examine a statue or to gather a few of the daisies which studded the +turf, thus giving the two an opportunity of exchanging confidences. +At the same time she felt thoroughly uncomfortable in the position in +which she found herself. She hated concealments and deceptions of all +kinds. Had she been asked, she would never have agreed to help Adela to +meet her lover clandestinely.</p> + +<p>For more than an hour they walked about the villa. The time seemed +rather long to Enid, but doubtless it passed rapidly enough with the +other two.</p> + +<p>"Do you not think it is time we turned homewards?" asked Enid at +length. "It is getting damp under these trees."</p> + +<p>"I suppose we must go," said Adela, reluctantly.</p> + +<p>Signor Torlono did not pass through the gates in their company, but +parted from them ere they reached the entrance, and strolled back into +the shade of the trees alone.</p> + +<p>"I know you are vexed with me, Enid," said Adela, when they had walked +for some minutes in silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," said Enid, frankly; "I hate such ways, Adela. Don't ask me +to go with you to meet Signor Torlono again unless your mother knows +that you are going to see him."</p> + +<p>"You will not tell anyone about it? You will keep my secret?" said +Adela, imploringly.</p> + +<p>"No, I will not tell anyone that you met Signor Torlono this +afternoon," said Enid, after a moment's reflection.</p> + +<p>"Do not be hard on me!" pleaded Adela. "I was obliged to see him—I +wanted to tell him all about it."</p> + +<p>"How did you let him know that you would be at the villa this +afternoon?"</p> + +<p>Adela coloured and looked confused. It was evident she was ashamed of +the means she had adopted. "Oh, I managed it," was all she said.</p> + +<p>"And what does he say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is in despair—poor Lucio! But he says as you do, that I must +not yield, and that my brother cannot make me marry if I refuse to do +so."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," said Enid. "Now take my advice; go home and tell your +mother all about it. Let her know how you and Lucio care for each +other; let her know that you have seen him this afternoon. Keep nothing +back. Depend upon it that is the best way. You will only make more +trouble for yourself if you hide things."</p> + +<p>"But she will be so angry," said Adela.</p> + +<p>"Never mind if she is," returned Enid. "Perhaps you deserve a little +scolding. Be brave, and make a bold stand, and the worst will soon be +over."</p> + +<p>"I will try to be brave," said Adela, "but I have not your spirit, +Enid—I wish I had."</p> + +<p>Then they parted at the end of the street in which Adela lived, and +Enid went home to her "pension."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHRISTMAS came, and Enid Mildmay found the season at Rome very unlike +the ideal English Christmas. True, bunches of red-berried holly were +being sold at high prices in the Piazza di Spagna, small fir-trees in +pots were ranged outside the florists' shops, and the loveliest toys +and presents of all descriptions were displayed in the windows on the +Corso. But the weather continued exceedingly mild; fires and wraps +were scarcely necessary; and ices for which the Romans have an amazing +predilection, continued to be an acceptable form of refreshment at +every social gathering.</p> + +<p>It was not Christmas to Enid, and the letters and cards which came to +her from home gave her the worst home-sickness she had as yet felt. +She pictured to herself the party gathered about the table in the +shabby old dining-room at home, and she longed to be with them. She +knew that they would think and speak of the absent one. She thought +with an aching heart of the Christmas-tree which would be lighted up in +the evening, of the snapdragons in which the boys delighted, and the +fun and frolic with which the day would end. She even shed tears over +the dainty little woollen wrap which her mother had knitted and sent +to her. It was weak and sentimental of her, perhaps; but this was the +first Christmas Enid had spent away from home, so perhaps she may be +forgiven for indulging in a little emotion on the occasion.</p> + +<p>Maud gave herself a few days' relaxation, and went with Enid from +church to church to see the strange spectacles and curious ceremonies +with which the Romish Church celebrates the anniversary of our +Saviour's birth. She had seen them before, and took an æsthetic +pleasure in marking the effects of crimson drapery and glittering +lights, or in listening to the exquisite music which accompanied many +of the services. But what beauty there was, was spoilt for Enid by her +sense of the childishness of many of the displays, and the superstition +which they expressed. It was dreadful to her to see people reverencing +as an object of worship an ugly painted doll with a gold crown stuck +upon its head, or bowing in adoration before the gaudy theatrical show +of a "Precepio." The tinsel crowns stuck upon paintings of the Madonna +and Child, the grotesque-looking dolls set up to represent the Holy +Babe, the showily-decked images, the lavish display of dingy artificial +flowers, disgusted Enid's taste, whilst it filled her with pity for +the poor, ignorant people, to impress whose dull minds such means are +employed.</p> + +<p>The English and American visitors in Rome attend in great numbers +the famous church services, and at most to which the girls went they +saw Julius Dakin in the company of Miss Amory. They generally met +and exchanged a few words on these occasions. On Christmas morning +at St. Maria in Ara Cœli, Julius drew Enid aside from the others to +show her the little chapel decorated with the beautiful frescoes of +Pinturicchio, and then, in the solitude that is to be found in the +midst of a crowd, Enid was led on to talk to him of the Christmas +at home, half unconsciously revealing her yearning to be there. She +wondered, and was half ashamed afterwards, to think how much she had +told him about herself and her dear ones.</p> + +<p>"I really must not talk so much of myself again," she thought; "it is +so foolish; but somehow he seemed interested. He has such a sympathetic +manner—it can be only his manner. Perhaps in reality he was bored. I +must be on my guard against abusing his kindness another time."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The Christmas excitements over, Enid again settled steadily to work. +She had no lack of occupation. Three mornings a week she spent in the +studio of Herr Schmitz, and they were long mornings, for that severe +master reproved her for laziness if she presented herself there later +than half-past eight. Nor was he anxious to make her tasks agreeable +to her. He persistently chose the most difficult casts in his studio +for her to draw from, and if he perceived that Enid had a dislike +to any subject he suggested, he at once insisted on her undertaking +it. He required such care and accuracy in her charcoal drawings, and +appeared so impatient of the least defect, that Enid was at times in +despair, and but for a fear of seeming ungrateful for his kindness she +would have discontinued her visits to his studio. But when he had by +his severe words and manner impressed her with the conviction that she +would never be able to draw, and might as well abandon the idea, Herr +Schmitz would generally relent, and begin to encourage her again, for +in truth it was his perception of the real talent she possessed that +made him require of her such excellence.</p> + +<p>Although when with him, he made her draw steadily from plaster casts, +he was willing that she should continue at other times the flower +and fruit painting which was her special delight, and condescended +to examine and criticise any which she liked to show him. In this +way, Enid made rapid progress, and even Maud, in spite of her jealous +dislike to doing so, was forced to acknowledge the excellence of her +work.</p> + +<p>Maud too was working diligently in her way; but she had adopted a +vicious style of painting, and self-love and vanity rendered her +blind to its defects. Occasionally she was dissatisfied with her +performances, and indulged in a little melancholy; but she never +doubted long that she was destined to do great things, nor apparently +ever questioned that she had done right in leaving her father to live +solitary whilst she pursued the life of an artist in the city she loved.</p> + +<p>"How unreasonable papa is," she said one day, as she threw down a +letter she had received from her father; "he actually suggests that I +should return home at the end of February."</p> + +<p>"I do not wonder he wants you to return," said Enid; "he must be very +dull without you."</p> + +<p>"Dull! Not he. You do not know my father, Enid," said Maud. "He is +always absorbed in business; that is all he cares for, and in the +evening he comes home tired out, and can only sit by the fire with a +book, over which very often he will fall asleep. He cannot really miss +me, and it is selfish of him to want to cut short my pleasure. But men +are selfish."</p> + +<p>"And are women never so?" was the question which rose to Enid's lips, +but she refrained from asking it.</p> + +<p>They were in the studio, and Enid was already at work upon a painting +which she was finishing with great care. It represented a little branch +cut from an orange tree, with a couple of oranges, one ripe and one +just changing colour, whilst just within the juncture of the stems +lingered a lovely blossom. Enid's model had been given to her by one +of the monks of the monastery of St. Sabina, who had cut it for her, +not from the famous orange tree planted by St. Dominic, but from one of +its numerous offshoots. She had succeeded better than could be expected +with what was really a difficult subject, and Herr Schmitz had praised +the harmony of colour she had maintained throughout her work.</p> + +<p>"That is really good, Enid," said Maud, as she rose from the easy chair +by the stove where she had seated herself to read her letters; "I like +the look of your blossom."</p> + +<p>"I cannot quite get the transparency I want," said Enid, moving a +few paces from her easel to survey her work. "What do you think Herr +Schmitz has proposed that I should do with this?"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell?"</p> + +<p>"He suggests that I should send it to the exhibition of the 'Belli +Arti.'"</p> + +<p>"Does he? Then you had better do so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think I might? You are going to send some pictures, are you +not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have promised to send three. I must make haste and get them +done, for they must be sent in by the end of February."</p> + +<p>"Herr Schmitz actually hinted that it was just possible someone might +buy my picture. Would not that be grand?"</p> + +<p>"Would you care to sell it?" asked Maud, with an air of superiority.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I should be delighted if anyone would give me a hundred +francs for it. I see so many pretty things here that I should like to +buy for mother and the girls. How rich I should feel with a hundred +francs to spend as I liked!"</p> + +<p>Maud looked rather wistfully at her cousin. "It must be nice to have a +mother and sisters to think about. I wonder sometimes what difference +it would have made in me if I had had a sister. I guess—as Miss Amory +would say—I should not have been just the girl I am."</p> + +<p>At that moment, someone knocked at the door of the studio. It was the +porter, who handed in a note addressed to Enid. The writer was Signora +Ravani, who courteously expressed regret that her daughter could no +longer continue to give Enid lessons in Italian, since the state of +her health obliged her to leave home for a while. If agreeable to Miss +Mildmay and Miss Marian, Adela would give herself the pleasure of +calling at their studio at half-past three that afternoon to bid them +adieu.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is an astonishing thing," said Enid, showing her cousin the +note. "Adela was quite well when I saw her a week ago, and we arranged +to recommence the lessons on Monday."</p> + +<p>"I dare say her health is only an excuse," said Maud; "and they have +some other motive for sending her away. No doubt, it is the doing of +that amiable brother of hers."</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Enid, at once conceiving that Adela had dared to +resist her brother's will with regard to her marriage, and that this +was the result.</p> + +<p>"At what hour will she be here this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"At three—no, at half-past three. Signora Ravani wrote three at first, +and then altered it."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I shall not be here. I promised to go shopping with Miss +Amory this afternoon; but I dare say Signorina Ravani will be just as +pleased to find you alone."</p> + +<p>So Maud did not return to the studio in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Whilst awaiting Adela's coming, Enid bethought herself of something +she wished to say to Miss Strutt, and ran down to her studio. As she +passed along the narrow passage which led to it, the door at the end, +from which a flight of steps descended into the garden, stood open. +The glimpse of blue sky and glorious sunshine which it afforded was so +inviting that Enid instinctively passed on to the doorway, and stood +for a few moments looking into the garden.</p> + +<p>Suddenly two forms emerged from the shade of the old orange trees laden +with golden fruit, and to her surprise, Enid recognised Adela and the +young painter, Lucio Torlono. Enid shrank back hastily; but she need +have had no fear of their seeing her—they were far too absorbed in +their talk together. Wondering how Adela had managed to secure this +interview with her lover, Enid hastily made her call on Miss Strutt, +and then hurried back to her studio. But it was more than half-past +three ere Adela made her appearance.</p> + +<p>She came in looking pale and weary, and her eyes showed traces of +tears. They began to flow again as Enid affectionately enquired +concerning her health.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing the matter with me," she said, "except that I am very +unhappy. I have tried to hold out bravely, Enid; I have refused to +marry to please my brother; but oh, I have had a dreadful time, and now +they are sending me away. I am to be shut up in a convent until I come +to my right mind, as Francesco says. I suppose if I do not yield they +will keep me there for ever."</p> + +<p>"That is surely impossible," said Enid. "Women cannot be shut up in +convents against their wills in these days."</p> + +<p>Adela shook her head despairingly. "You do not know Francesco," she +said; "he can always accomplish what he wishes. Besides, our uncle, the +Abbé Ravani, is the director of this convent, and he and Francesco are +great friends. It is in a lonely place, away amongst the hills. Once +there, I shall not easily escape."</p> + +<p>"But it is dreadful, too dreadful, that your brother should have you so +completely in his power," said Enid. "I would defy him if I were you, +and refuse to go."</p> + +<p>"That is impossible. You do not know what it means to defy him. Lucio +says he cannot endure it; he will find some way to free me; but what +can he do? I have no hope—none."</p> + +<p>"How did you manage to come here alone this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my mother brought me to the door, and she will call for me again +at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"So soon," said Enid; "that gives us very little time together."</p> + +<p>"Yes; forgive me, Enid; I have robbed you of half the time because I +wanted to see Lucio. I could not go away without bidding him good-bye. +Did you notice that the time had been altered in the note?"</p> + +<p>"I noticed that Signora Ravani had written three o'clock and then +altered it to half-past three."</p> + +<p>"I made that alteration. I contrived to open the envelope after mamma +had closed it, and I changed the time. Ah, you are shocked; but you +might excuse it. I should not have done it if I could have been sure +of finding you alone; but I thought your cousin would be here, and it +would be so difficult to explain. By altering the time I secured half +an hour with Lucio without causing you any inconvenience."</p> + +<p>Enid was silent. She was really afraid of showing what she thought of +Adela's conduct. To stoop to such petty deceits, to open envelopes and +tamper with letters, was a kind of meanness so utterly removed from +Enid's open, honourable nature that it well-nigh quenched her pity for +Adela's unhappy fate. She could not at once make allowance for the +training in duplicity and falsehood which it was plain the poor girl +had had.</p> + +<p>"I assure you I had hard work to come at all," continued Adela, anxious +to defend herself. "I had to beg and beg before mamma would yield. +Francesco would be very angry if he knew I had come to see you, for he +thinks you have taught me to rebel."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could have taught you to rebel more successfully, my poor +Adela," said Enid sadly. "Did you tell your mother about Lucio?"</p> + +<p>"I did, though I wished afterwards I had not told her. She was +dreadfully shocked and grieved. She said she could never have believed +that her daughter was capable of acting and feeling as I have done. You +may be sure I did not tell her that Lucio's studio was in this house, +or she would not have allowed me to come here to-day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Adela, it would have been so much better to have told her all," +said Enid. "No good can come of half confidences; they only complicate +matters, and make them worse."</p> + +<p>But Adela could not see this. She cried and bemoaned her unhappy fate, +and Enid was at a loss how to console her. It was a melancholy time +they spent together, and Enid felt it almost a relief when the porter +came to say that Signora Ravani was waiting below for her daughter. +They parted sadly, and Adela, struggling hard to keep back her tears, +went downstairs to join her mother.</p> + +<p>She had not been gone many seconds when someone else knocked at the +door of the studio.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said Enid mechanically.</p> + +<p>And Julius Dakin walked into the room.</p> + +<p>"Alone!" he said. "And not at work! Actually!"</p> + +<p>"Actually," said Enid, smiling. "I have not been working this +afternoon. I have had a visitor."</p> + +<p>"Was it the young lady I met on the stairs, and who seemed to be in a +tearful condition?"</p> + +<p>"Signorina Ravani has been here. I am afraid your description may apply +to her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was she. I remember her now—your Italian teacher. Was she +weeping over the perversity of her pupil?"</p> + +<p>In vain Enid tried to foil his questions. He could see that the +trouble, whatever it might be, was one which she shared, and gently, +skilfully, little by little, he drew from her the story of Adela's +unhappy attachment and its consequences.</p> + +<p>"I know Torlono," he said. "He is a clever fellow; he will do something +good one of these days, I believe. It was a shame of his uncle to throw +him over; but he will think better of it yet."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" asked Enid eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I should hope so. My father knows old Torlono, but not well +enough to interfere in the matter, I am afraid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if only he could," said Enid earnestly. "I mean, if there were any +hope of success."</p> + +<p>"Just so. The attempt might do more harm than good. But I will speak to +my father, and hear what he thinks about it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you—oh, thank you!" said Enid heartily.</p> + +<p>He looked down on her with a strange expression on his face.</p> + +<p>"How seriously you take up your friends' troubles!" he said. "You make +them your very own. You have sympathy for everyone except me."</p> + +<p>"You, Mr. Dakin," exclaimed Enid, colouring vividly in her surprise. +"How can you possibly need my sympathy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course you think I have no troubles. You think me an idle, +worthless fellow, incapable of feeling anything deeply."</p> + +<p>"I think that!" exclaimed Enid, astonished. "What can you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know; I can read your mind. I can see that you deem me frivolous +and shallow—that you have a low opinion of me, in fact."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dakin! I have no such thing. I think you most kind. But you are +only joking; it is absurd of me to take your words seriously."</p> + +<p>"I am not joking, and do not you try to put me off with smooth words. +You know that we agreed that we would always speak the truth to each +other. You cannot deny that you think me a poor creature, a lazy +good-for-nothing, unfit to be named in the same breath with such a man +as your father, for instance, of whom you are so proud."</p> + +<p>"I do deny it," said Enid, her colour deepening as she spoke. "Now I +will tell you the very truth. I do not think you frivolous and shallow; +but I fancy sometimes that you try to appear so, and it makes me sorry, +because—well, because I am sure you are capable of better things."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Julius in a low voice; and then he turned from her +and moved about the studio, looking at this thing and that without, +however, really observing anything.</p> + +<p>Enid wondered if he were offended. But presently he came back to her +and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said again; "I will try to deserve your good opinion. I +will see if I cannot do something to please you."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Not to please me," said Enid; "do try to do something and be something +in the world; but let it be from a high motive."</p> + +<p>"What motive?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What motive?" she repeated. "Can it be necessary to ask here in Rome +what should be the motive of a true man's life—here, where so many +heroes and martyrs laid down their lives rather than disobey the voice +of duty and of God? The past seems to me to teach so solemn a lesson."</p> + +<p>"What lesson?" he asked.</p> + +<p>For a few moments she did not reply. Then she said in low, grave tones, +"'That the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth +the will of God abideth for ever.'"</p> + +<p>Julius Dakin did not reply to her words. He laid down some tickets Miss +Marian had asked him to procure for her, and to bring, which had been +his errand to the studio, then went away.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +A PASSIONATE ACT<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AFTER Julius Dakin had left the studio, Enid sat for awhile doing +nothing. It was not like her thus to sit in idleness; but she was in a +mood which was altogether strange to her. She was excited—so excited +that she would have found it impossible to wield a brush or so to +control either hand or mind as to produce her best work.</p> + +<p>Of course she believed that it was Adela's coming, and the painful +nature of her visit that had unsettled her so; yet had she carefully +analysed her feelings, she could not have said that they were entirely +sad. And in truth as she sat absorbed, not knowing how the minutes +passed; it was less of Adela than of Julius Dakin that she was +thinking. She was recalling all she had told him about Adela, and how +he had listened to her words, and what he had said, with everything +that had followed. Not words alone repeated themselves to her inner +consciousness, but looks and tones.</p> + +<p>Somehow that brief interview had left her with much to think over. +With a strange thrill she thought of the words she had dared to say to +him, not regretting them but wondering that she had found courage to +say what she had, wondering too at the gentleness with which he had +received her admonition, which surely many young men would have been +inclined to resent.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Enid became conscious at last of the dangerous course her +thoughts were pursuing. Certainly she started up as the time-piece +struck four, with a sudden sense of the absurdity of spending a fine +afternoon, at Rome of all places, in doing absolutely nothing, and in a +room lighted from above with no view of the outer world.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, she had donned her hat and jacket, and was on her way +to the Pincio.</p> + +<p>On this bright afternoon there was the usual crowd on the terrace +facing the band-stand. Carriages were drawn up in rows in the centre of +the open space, most of them empty, their possessors preferring to walk +about as they listened to the music. The scene was one of which Enid +felt that she would never weary. It was a delight to her to gaze over +the widespread view of Rome, a delight which had only increased as each +object which met her view became familiar, till she could name every +dome and roof on which her eyes rested. Nor was languid her interest in +the various human elements of which the crowd about her was composed. +The foreign visitors, representing so many nationalities, and who might +be classified as the fashionable, the pretty, and the picturesque, +afforded Enid entertainment; and as she passed to and fro in the +sunshine, her face showed that her thoughts were as bright as the day. +For if she thought of Adela now, the girl's unhappy lot cast no heavy +shadow on Enid's heart. Indeed, she was half disposed to reproach +herself with hard-heartedness, so much did the excitement of her mood +tend to gladness. A new and exquisite happiness seemed to be welling up +within her, the secret source of which she herself did not know.</p> + +<p>Then of a sudden, all was changed. It was curious that the sight of +Julius Dakin coming round a bend of the road should set Enid's heart +beating with painful rapidity; still more curious that she should be +conscious only of a desire to avoid him. She hurried towards the side +of the terrace whence a flight of steps descended to the lower road. +As she stepped down, she looked back. He had passed on without seeing +her; he was advancing towards an open carriage, in which sat two young +ladies. It was perhaps the smartest equipage, and its occupants the two +most charming girls, to be seen on the Pincio that day.</p> + +<p>With a sensation wholly new to her, Enid watched him greeting with +his courtliest air and most fascinating smile Blanche Amory and Maud +Marian. As she went quickly down the steps, the words she had overheard +at Mrs. Dakin's reception came vividly to her mind—"Julius Dakin knows +how to make himself agreeable to ladies," and she remembered too how in +the same conversation the names of both these girls had been coupled +with his. Enid descended the winding path with her head held high and +her lips firmly compressed.</p> + +<p>"I am glad I said what I did to him this afternoon," she thought, +"though I do not suppose it will make any difference. I hate the idea +of a man living just to please himself, taking everything the world can +give him and paying nothing back. But that is Julius Dakin's way—he +never thinks of any debt he owes to others; he has no desire to serve +the world. And I—I despise a man like that!"</p> + +<p>And there was a strangely stern expression on Enid's fresh young face +as she crossed the Piazza del Popolo and took her way home by the Via +del Babuino. But ere she reached the house, sternness had given way +to sadness. A feeling of weariness and home-sickness swept over her +which was hard to bear. She felt a great yearning for her mother's +presence, her gentle, helpful sympathy. And the last letter from +home had given her such an account of her mother's health as caused +her uneasiness. Enid was not naturally inclined either to anxiety or +melancholy; but now every dark suggestion, every sad thought she had +before experienced, came back to her mind with renewed force. She was +depressed both in mind and body when she gained her room, and it was a +relief to know that Maud was out, and she might indulge her mood for a +while without fear of interruption.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But not for long did Enid give way to melancholy. The next day she +was herself again. Her little picture was finished and sent away to +be framed, in readiness for the exhibition. That very day she began a +painting of a bunch of violets in a little earthenware jar—a simple +enough subject, but by no means easy to treat successfully. Working +away at it, however, in her careful, painstaking way, Enid achieved +a very fair result. Meanwhile, Maud was engaged every morning with a +model, a handsome, dark-eyed girl, who wore one of the picturesque +costumes of the Campagna. It must be confessed that the girl's beauty +suffered at Maud's hands. The face which looked forth from her canvas +had a hardness of colouring and a boldness of glance of which the +original was not guilty. But defects of this kind did not disturb +Maud's complacency. She had a curious way of anticipating and disarming +criticism.</p> + +<p>"I know my model's hair was not like that," she would say; "but really +I prefer the hair I have given her. She ought to have had hair of that +shade, don't you see?"</p> + +<p>Or—"No, her eyes had not that expression; they had a melancholy look; +but I do not approve of melancholy subjects, so I was glad to give her +a cheerful air. You see, I must paint in my own way, or not at all."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly," said a gentleman to whom Maud made this remark on one +of the afternoons when she was "At home" to her friends; "that is the +prerogative of genius. Art should give us more than a mere copy of +Nature; it should improve upon Nature."</p> + +<p>To Enid's surprise, her cousin accepted this response with complacency, +and seemed unconscious of the satire which doubtless lurked in it.</p> + +<p>Miss Marian was "At home" each Wednesday afternoon, and between four +and six o'clock on that day the Studio Mariano presented a lively +scene. Whatever might be thought of her powers as an artist, her studio +was undoubtedly an attractive place, and she had a knack of making +people enjoy the time they spent there. Men found her both pretty +and clever, and were struck with the grace of her manner; whilst +women, though they might object to the colour of her hair, criticise +unfavourably her features, and resent the airs she gave herself, were +nevertheless won by her good-nature.</p> + +<p>Enid generally found plenty of entertainment on her cousin's reception +afternoon. It devolved on her to look after the prosaic details +connected with the making and serving of the tea; but these did not +prevent her from having a good time. She liked to see the people who +came, and to listen to the lively talk that went on. Perhaps she +enjoyed it all the more because she had only a secondary part to play, +and her duties kept her much in the background. Many of Maud's visitors +were of opinion that her cousin was a quiet, rather dull girl. They +would have been surprised had they known how keenly the "dull" girl +had observed them, and how clearly she had detected their various +weaknesses and vanities. For it must be confessed that Enid was rather +a "quiz."</p> + +<p>Enid was disturbed to see Miss Amory, attended by Julius Dakin, enter +the studio on the following Wednesday afternoon. She had not spoken to +him since he found her alone there four days earlier. She was nervously +conscious of the words that had passed between them on that occasion. +She tried to occupy herself with the other visitors, and to avoid +saying more to him than was absolutely necessary.</p> + +<p>But it did not please him to be thus ignored. He watched his +opportunity, and presently, when several persons rose to depart, and +there was a general break in the conversation, Enid found him by her +side.</p> + +<p>"What are you painting now, Miss Mildmay, if I may ask?"</p> + +<p>"You may ask, certainly," said Enid, smiling.</p> + +<p>"You do not mean that you will refuse to tell me? Oh, please let me see +it. This is your easel, is it not?"</p> + +<p>Enid, forseeing endless entreaties, thought she might as well yield at +once, and uncovered her painting.</p> + +<p>"Ah, this is something new!" he exclaimed. "Did you finish the orange +spray?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it is gone to the framer's."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is right. And you really mean to send it to the exhibition?"</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"I am glad. It will win a medal, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not expect that," said Enid, smiling. "But now, how do you +think this promises?"</p> + +<p>"I think it very good—so good that—Shall I tell you what I wish?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would paint it for me. I mean, I wish you would be so good +as to allow me to purchase it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Dakin!" exclaimed Enid, colouring hotly in her surprise. "I +could not do such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Why not? Are you too proud to sell your pictures?"</p> + +<p>"No, not that," said Enid, with considerable hesitation; "but I do not +like the idea of selling one to you."</p> + +<p>"You think me incapable of appreciating it?"</p> + +<p>"You know it is not that," said Enid, forced to smile. "But—well—that +one in the exhibition will be for sale; you can buy that if you like."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, but I do not desire that. I want to have something you have +painted throughout for me."</p> + +<p>"If I painted anything for you," said Enid slowly, "I would not sell it +to you."</p> + +<p>"No, really!" There was a strange, surprised, glad look in his eyes as +he bent towards her. His glance met and arrested hers.</p> + +<p>With a strange thrill she awaited the words he was about to utter; but +they remained unsaid, for at that moment the high thin voice of Miss +Amory made itself heard from the other side of the room.</p> + +<p>"Julius, where on earth are you? Do come and look at this lovely thing +of Miss Marian's. It is real elegant."</p> + +<p>Julius cast a comical glance at Enid as he turned to obey the summons. +An inspection of Maud's pictures followed, and Enid observed that +Julius found something commendatory to say of each. Miss Amory made +remarks on them with her usual freedom.</p> + +<p>"It is a treat to see some new pictures," she observed. "I am so tired +of those dim old things in front of which you have to keep moving +about for a month till you find a spot where you can see them. I like +something you can see straight away. But don't you think that girl +looks a bit sick? Her eyes are not right, anyhow; but you've given her +an awful cunning gown."</p> + +<p>Enid was thankful that Miss Amory's attention was not drawn to any of +her work. She hastily covered up her own little painting, and nothing +more was said about it. A few minutes later Miss Amory and her escort +took their departure.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Enid went on painting her violets with a new pleasure in her work. She +was tremulously anxious to succeed, and far from satisfied with her +performance, yet it was good. The thought of Julius Dakin was with +her as she worked. She had resolved that she would receive no money +from him for the little picture. Yet in truth, though dreamily, scarce +consciously, she was painting it for him. She meant that he should +have it, though she had no clear idea of how it would be possible for +her to give it to him. She had almost finished the work. It lacked but +those finishing touches which the eye of a connoisseur alone could have +detected to be wanting.</p> + +<p>"Why do you keep touching that thing?" Maud said to her impatiently one +day; "those trifling details can make no real difference."</p> + +<p>"I wish Herr Schmitz could hear you say that," returned Enid; "he would +certainly repeat for your benefit his favourite story."</p> + +<p>"What is that?" asked Maud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it relates to his hero, Michael Angelo. A friend once visited the +sculptor, and found him engaged upon a statue. Some weeks later the +visit was repeated.</p> + +<p>"'You have been idle since I was here,' remarked the friend, looking at +Michael Angelo's work, in which he discerned no progress.</p> + +<p>"'By no means,' said the sculptor. 'I have softened this feature and +brought out that muscle. I have given expression to that lip, and more +energy to that limb.'</p> + +<p>"'Well, but these are mere trifles,' said his friend.</p> + +<p>"'It may be so,' replied Michael Angelo, 'but remember, trifles make +perfection, and perfection is no trifle.'"</p> + +<p>"I can quite imagine Herr Schmitz telling that story," said Maud +disdainfully; "but I must say I do not admire that sort of perfection. +I believe in the artist who can produce a great effect with a few +strokes. Things laboriously wrought are often failures. You may work +away at a picture till you spoil it utterly."</p> + +<p>"That is true, as I have learned by experience," said Enid. "Still, it +is well to strive one's hardest; and perfection is perfection, however +attained. Yet, I doubt if Michael Angelo ever thought his work perfect."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Enid took the warning which her cousin's words suggested. She would +not work upon her violets till she spoiled them. She resolved to lay +the painting aside for a day or two that she might return to it with +fresher vision, and be better able to judge of its merits. So she gave +herself a holiday on the following day, and spent its hours in visiting +some of the many interesting spots in old Rome.</p> + +<p>Returning to the studio late in the afternoon, she found Maud putting +away her work and obviously not in the best of humours.</p> + +<p>"Julius Dakin has been here," she said, after a few minutes. "He stayed +ever so long, and hindered me dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Enid, wondering that her cousin should speak as if his +visit were a cause of annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he looked at that painting of yours, Enid. He would look at +it, although I told him you did not like your work meddled with."</p> + +<p>"That was very rude of him," said Enid; but she did not speak in an +offended tone. "What did he think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he professes to think most highly of it," replied Maud; "he wants +to buy it of you."</p> + +<p>"I know he does," said Enid smiling; "but I do not mean to sell it to +him."</p> + +<p>"Why not? What nonsense, Enid, when you know you would be glad of the +money! I am sure he means it very kindly."</p> + +<p>"Very kindly!" repeated Enid, in a tone of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sure he does it out of kindness."</p> + +<p>"Does what out of kindness?" demanded Enid. "What do you mean, Maud?"</p> + +<p>Her cousin gave a constrained little laugh. "Are you so vain, Enid, as +to suppose that he is really anxious to possess that painting of yours? +You must know that I told him some time ago that you would be glad to +make a little money by selling some of your things. It is just a piece +of his good-nature. He wants to be kind to you—that is all."</p> + +<p>A burning flush mounted in Enid's face as she heard her cousin's +words. She stood motionless, gazing at her little painting, which was +still exposed upon the easel, with a revulsion of feeling that was +unendurable. She could not have told why Maud's words had such power to +sting her; she did not understand the meaning of the passionate anger +and the sense of outraged pride which possessed her; she only knew that +it was intolerable, and demanded some vent.</p> + +<p>Maud repented of her words as soon as they were uttered. She was +dismayed as she marked their effect—dismayed and conscience-stricken, +for she knew they had been insincerely uttered; and she was a girl who +prided herself on her truthfulness.</p> + +<p>"Why do you look like that? Surely you need not mind," she began.</p> + +<p>But the next moment her voice rose high in consternation. "Don't, Enid! +What are you thinking of?"</p> + +<p>But she could not arrest her cousin's action. Enid seized her painting, +tore it passionately into several pieces, and threw them within the +open door of the stove. A flame sprang from the glowing coal and +consumed in a moment the work of many days.</p> + +<p>"How could you, Enid?" cried Maud, in great distress. "You must be mad!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am," said Enid, in a voice strangely unlike her own; "but +you see now how anxious I am to make money by selling my pictures, and +also how grateful I am for such kindness as that of Mr. Julius Dakin."</p> + +<p>With these words on her lips, she walked out of the studio, and Maud +was left to her own reflections, which were by no means of an agreeable +nature.</p> + +<p>Running blindly down the stairs, with no purpose save a desire to +get away from Maud, Enid came upon Miss Strutt slowly ascending the +staircase with several small parcels in her hand. The girl would have +passed without a word had not Miss Strutt caught her by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Enid, what has happened? Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing! At least, nothing that I can tell you," said Enid, making an +effort to conquer her agitation.</p> + +<p>"Then do not tell me," said Miss Strutt, kindly; "only—whither are you +going in such haste?"</p> + +<p>"I am going nowhere in particular," said Enid, looking down in shame. +"I suppose I was going to the 'pension.'"</p> + +<p>"Come to my room instead," said Miss Strutt soothingly. "I am just +going to make myself a cup of tea, and I should be glad of your +company."</p> + +<p>Enid hesitated. "I had better not come now," she said; "I am not in a +mood to be good company for anyone."</p> + +<p>"Then come and be bad company," said Miss Strutt smiling. "My dear, I +see you are in trouble, and I will not worry you. I will give you a +cup of good tea—they say tea is a comfort to women in every sort of +trouble—and you need not say a word unless you like."</p> + +<p>So Enid followed her. By this time her passion was spent, and she was +beginning to be thoroughly ashamed of the way in which it had moved her.</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt placed the girl in a comfortable chair by the stove, and +then left her alone whilst she busied herself in emptying the small +grocery packets she had been purchasing. She had many preparations to +make ere the tea was ready. Maud would have been moved to contemptuous +pity, could she have watched the precise, particular way in which the +old maid arranged everything, and she would certainly have laughed at +the odd figure Miss Strutt presented as she moved about in a short +full-flounced skirt, of a style that for many years had ceased to be +the mode.</p> + +<p>But Enid was too absorbed in her own sorrowful thoughts to pay any heed +to Miss Strutt. That lady, however, was quietly observing Enid, and she +presently saw her turn her head aside, and knew that she was shedding +tears. But still Miss Strutt kept silence. At last, when the tea was +made, she drew a little table to Enid's side, and placed on it a cup of +tea and some biscuits.</p> + +<p>"There, my dear," she said kindly, "take your tea, and you will feel +better afterwards."</p> + +<p>Enid looked up at her with eyes full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Miss Strutt," she said, "you have no idea what a dreadful temper I +have."</p> + +<p>"Have you?" said Miss Strutt smiling. "Well, certainly I had no such +idea."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish I could take things quietly," continued Enid; "but when +anything vexes me, I fire up, and speak so angrily, and do things for +which I am sorry afterwards. Maud has far more self-control than I +have."</p> + +<p>"It is a good thing to have self-control," said Miss Strutt. "Some +persons are naturally cool and self-possessed; but for one of your +temperament, self-restraint is never easy. You can only learn to +control yourself by constant effort and much watchfulness."</p> + +<p>"That is what mother has often told me," said Enid, with a sigh; "and I +thought I had learned to conquer my temper; but I suppose it was only +that I found it easy to be good-tempered when I was at home. So many +things have happened to put me out since I came to Rome. And I thought +I was going to be so happy here!"</p> + +<p>Enid's tears began to gather anew.</p> + +<p>"You have been happy," said Miss Strutt. "Don't magnify your troubles, +child. I am sure it has often gladdened my heart to see your bright +face, for I like to feel that some lives are full of sunshine, though +mine is lived in the shade. You have had much enjoyment since you came +to Rome."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I have—you are right," said Enid, smiling in spite of herself. +"But I do not think I can enjoy anything more. I would go home +to-morrow if I could."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense! This will pass," said Miss Strutt briskly. "You young +things always fancy that your troubles are going to last for ever. In +a week's time, you will be as eager to remain in Rome as you were at +first. And what would Herr Schmitz say if you ran away? You forget your +work. How are you getting on with your violets, by-the-bye?"</p> + +<p>"I tore the painting up this afternoon," said Enid, colouring deeply.</p> + +<p>"My dear, you do not mean that!" exclaimed Miss Strutt quickly. "What +could make you do so? You seemed to me to be succeeding so well. If you +got your colours into a muddle, you should have come to me before doing +anything so desperate."</p> + +<p>"It was not that," said Enid, with deepening confusion; "it was not +because I was disgusted with my work. I did it in a fit of temper."</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt looked amazed.</p> + +<p>"It was very foolish of me," faltered Enid. "I am sorry for it now—but +it is too late."</p> + +<p>"Such regrets are generally too late," said Miss Strutt gravely. "Well, +it is a good thing you only destroyed your picture. Greater things are +often destroyed in a fit of temper—friendships, loves—that are very +precious. Ah, it is terrible to think what one may be led to do or say +under the influence of passion."</p> + +<p>Enid felt the solemnity of her tone. "Oh, Miss Strutt," she said, "I am +frightened at myself sometimes! It is so hard to be right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, life is not easy," said the elder woman; "at least, a true life +never is. We must strive and struggle if we would follow the path of +perfection. 'If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and +take up his, cross and follow Me.' But the end is worth the struggle."</p> + +<p>She laid down her cup, rose, and crossed the room to where a bureau +stood against the wall. Enid did not watch her movements. She was +thinking of what Miss Strutt had said. There was silence for some +minutes.</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt was bending over a small picture which she had taken from a +drawer. She looked at it long, and hesitated. At last, placing it on an +easel, she said, turning to the girl—</p> + +<p>"Enid, look here! This is something I have never shown you."</p> + +<p>Enid looked up. On the easel was a portrait, executed in water-colour, +of a young man.</p> + +<p>"Did you do that?" she asked, in surprise. "I did not know that you +painted portraits."</p> + +<p>"I do not as a rule. That was painted from memory, with the aid of a +photograph."</p> + +<p>Something in Miss Strutt's manner restrained Enid from asking +questions. She looked at the portrait. It was that of a young man about +five-and-twenty years of age. It was a good, even a handsome face. +The broad, finely-arched brow, the strongly-moulded features, the +thoughtful expression, seemed to betoken intellectual power. He could +hardly be said to resemble Miss Strutt, and yet there was that in the +face which subtly suggested hers.</p> + +<p>"That is the portrait of my brother," said Miss Strutt, when the +silence had lasted some minutes.</p> + +<p>"Your brother!" said Enid, in surprise. She could not remember having +heard Miss Strutt speak before of this or any relative.</p> + +<p>"Is he living?" she added, after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he lives," said Miss Strutt, and her voice sounded strange to +Enid's ears. She looked at her, and saw that the little woman was +greatly agitated.</p> + +<p>"He is my only brother," said Miss Strutt presently. "That is what +he looked like long ago, for he is older than I. We were so fond and +proud of him, my mother and I; perhaps, we had a right to be, for he +had great gifts. We were always poor, for my father died when I was +a little child. My mother made great sacrifices to give her children +a good education. I early began to earn money by teaching, whilst at +the same time, I practised drawing constantly, for I always hoped to +be an artist. Every penny my mother and I could save we put aside that +Hugh might go to college. He was so clever, we felt sure that he would +distinguish himself. We thought he had a great future before him."</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt paused for a moment, then went on in tremulous tones, +"Well, he went to college and he won distinction. The men of his +college were proud of him; great things were prophesied. There was a +scholarship for which my brother was competing. No one doubted that +he would win it. But he had a rival—a rival who was also an enemy. +Circumstances had occurred to create between them the bitterest +feeling. On the day of the examination, my brother discovered that this +man had taken an unfair advantage of him. He charged him with it. There +were angry words. My brother was always hot-tempered. In their quarrel, +he suddenly struck his opponent. The blow would not have been serious, +but the man chanced to be standing at the head of a flight of stone +steps. The shock sent him staggering back, and he fell to the bottom of +the flight. When they raised him, his neck was broken."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Enid. "How could your brother bear it?"</p> + +<p>"He could not bear it," said Miss Strutt slowly. "He was out of health; +for weeks he had been over-working, studying both day and night in +pursuit of his object. His nervous system had been strained beyond +endurance; this shock was more than his brain could support. Ah, how +can I tell it! His reason gave way. He has lived on; he is living +still—if it can be called life—that awful existence of the insane!"</p> + +<p>Enid grew pale as she listened. She could say nothing in response. +Words seemed empty and vapid beside the revelation of so great a +sorrow. Her own troubles seemed to melt into nothingness in comparison +with the sorrow and disappointment of this sister's heart. Perhaps Miss +Strutt felt that hers was the silence of sympathy, for she went on +presently—</p> + +<p>"You will not wonder that the grief broke my mother's heart. She lived +little more than a year afterwards—then I was left alone in the world. +People perhaps wonder why I live as I do; why I work so hard and spend +so little. You will understand. I have but one thing to live for—the +duty of seeing that my poor brother is well cared for in his sad +situation. I have a friend, a medical man, in Scotland, who visits him +from time to time, and sends me news of his condition. If there were +any improvement, any possibility of his knowing me, I should go to him +at once; but the news is always the same. It is a hopeless case."</p> + +<p>Enid took Miss Strutt's hand and kissed it reverently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what sorrows you have known!" she said. "It makes me ashamed to +think that I have been pitying myself, fancying myself unhappy, when I +really do not know what trouble is."</p> + +<p>"If it has made you feel so, I am not sorry that I have told you," said +Miss Strutt.</p> + +<p>"No, do not be sorry; I am glad you told me. Only I feel so sorry for +you. How you have borne it, I cannot tell."</p> + +<p>"I have been helped to bear it," said Miss Strutt quietly. "Have you +seen Guido Reni's Crucifixion in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina? +No! Then you must go and look at it some day, and perhaps the picture +will give its message to your heart. Many a time when my heart has been +oppressed by the mournful mystery of life, and ready to rebel beneath +its heavy load, the sight of Guido's picture has given me calmness +and strength. That sublime sorrow of the Highest One, that cross so +patiently borne for the sake of others, gives us the only solution of +life's perplexities, for it shows us that all the pain of the world, +and our own individual share of the same, is meant to be for good, and +not for evil. Do not look so grieved for me, child! This sorrow of mine +has shared my life for so many years that it has grown to be like part +of myself, and I have long ceased to fret under it."</p> + +<p>Enid quitted Miss Strutt's room in a humbler frame of mind. She had had +her lesson, and it was one which she never forgot.</p> + +<p>She went upstairs prepared to confess to Maud how she regretted her +hasty action and angry words. Maud received the confession lightly +enough, and dismissed the matter as of slight consequence. Enid's heart +was sore as she thought of the violets she had painted so lovingly. She +felt a strong reluctance to begin anything fresh, and for some days +could only work in a very desultory fashion.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Maud meanwhile was projecting a great work. The weather now was sunny +and warm—as February days often are in Rome—and Maud made her pretty +model pose for her in the garden beside an old moss-grown fountain with +a background of orange trees laden with ripening fruit. It was a good +idea, but unfortunately Miss Marian's ambition was in advance of her +skill.</p> + +<p>Maud was painting in the garden one afternoon and Enid was drawing in +the studio, when Julius Dakin made his appearance there.</p> + +<p>Enid, who felt some embarrassment on seeing him, at once explained +where her cousin might be found; but he seemed in no hurry to seek Miss +Marian.</p> + +<p>"Where are the violets? Are they finished?" he asked, as he glanced +over her shoulder, and saw that she was drawing from a plaster cast.</p> + +<p>"They are finished as much as they ever will be," said Enid, colouring +vividly. "I have done for them."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Simply that the violets are no more. In other words, I tore the +painting up."</p> + +<p>"What! Do I hear aright? You tore up my beautiful violets—the painting +that I had come to look on as my own! What could make you do such a +thing?"</p> + +<p>Enid said nothing.</p> + +<p>"It was too bad of you," he continued reproachfully. "You were doing +them exquisitely. You excel in painting flowers—Herr Schmitz was saying +so the other day; I wish you could have heard how he spoke of your +work."</p> + +<p>"It is well I did not," said Enid; "I am conceited enough already, and +Herr Schmitz knows that too well to give me much praise."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, you are mistaken. I only wish I could inspire you with a +little conceit. If you had a quarter of your cousin's self-confidence, +you would do."</p> + +<p>"Allow me to remind you, Mr. Dakin, that comparisons are odious," said +Enid.</p> + +<p>Julius laughed, but said determinedly, "Now I really must understand +this matter. What induced you to tear up that painting?"</p> + +<p>Enid was silent.</p> + +<p>"Were you disgusted with your work? Did you conceive of it as a +failure?"</p> + +<p>"No, it was not that."</p> + +<p>"Was it anything your cousin said that induced you to do it? Did she +disparage your work?"</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Dakin, I must beg you to spare me these questions," said +Enid. "What does it matter why I did it? The thing is done, and cannot +be undone."</p> + +<p>"That is the worst of it, unhappily. I assure you I do not feel +inclined to take my loss philosophically. I can never forgive Miss +Marian if her words have put you out of humour with your work. It is +absurd her presuming to criticise you, who have fifty times her talent. +You must see yourself how faulty her work is. She cannot even draw. You +must be conscious of your own superior power. You have real talent; but +Miss Marian! It is ridiculous for her to call herself an artist!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dakin, I wish you would not speak so," said Enid uneasily. "You +forget that Maud is my cousin."</p> + +<p>"No, I do not; but forgive me if I have said anything to pain you. You +know I promised that I would always tell you exactly what I thought. +I have a great respect for Miss Marian; she is a charming young lady; +but—" he shrugged his shoulders impressively—"as an artist she is a +joke."</p> + +<p>"I shall be seriously offended with you, Mr. Dakin, if you talk in that +way," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me; I did not mean to annoy you, though really I think you +deserve a punishment for tearing up my painting. Now tell me honestly, +did you not paint those violets for me?"</p> + +<p>"I should never have sold them to you," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Then you would have given them to me," he said, in a low, insinuating +tone.</p> + +<p>Enid coloured, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"That would have made me only too happy," said he. "And now the picture +is destroyed, do you wonder I am vexed? I suppose I may not ask you to +paint something else for me?"</p> + +<p>"You may ask me if you like," said Enid, "but I shall certainly refuse +to make any promise. I feel as if I should never paint flowers again. +But now let us go and find Maud."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Julius laughingly; "we will go and see the great artist of +the future."</p> + +<p>Enid gave him a reproachful glance.</p> + +<p>But when they reached the garden, Maud was no longer there. Her easel +and painting materials were still beneath the trees; but model and +artist had both departed.</p> + +<p>Julius Dakin excused himself from staying longer, and Enid went back +alone to the studio.</p> + +<p>Attached to the studio was a tiny room communicating with it, and +having also a door into the passage. The girls used it as a sort of +dressing-room, and also as a place of consignment for various useful +but inelegant articles belonging to their studio.</p> + +<p>As she re-entered the studio, Enid heard a sound which seemed to her +like a sob, proceeding from this little room. Hastily drawing aside the +curtain which screened it, she saw that the door was open, and Maud +stood within. Undoubtedly too the sob had come from Maud, for her eyes +were wet with tears as she started and faced her cousin angrily.</p> + +<p>"Why, Maud," exclaimed Enid, startled, "what is the matter! Have you +been here long?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not long," said Maud, in a tone of indescribable bitterness; +"only since Julius Dakin arrived. I saw him pass when I was in the +garden, and I came in. I thought he might want to see me; but I need +not have troubled, since it was evidently you he came to see."</p> + +<p>Enid was dismayed. If Maud had been in the ante-room with the door +open during Julius Dakin's visit, she had heard all he said, and his +unflattering comments on her as an artist must have stung her sorely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maud, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed in her distress. "You should +not have stayed here."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, it was well I did so," said Maud proudly. "I had an +opportunity of testing the sincerity of those who profess to be my +friends. Don't speak to me, Enid," she added with sudden passion, as +Enid tried to say a word; "don't make any excuses for him. I shall hate +you if you do! I do not want to hate you, but you will drive me to it +if you do not take care!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +A SERIOUS ADVENTURE<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ENID was greatly distressed. The more she pondered what had occurred +at the studio that afternoon, the more she regretted it. She could not +feel that she was to blame in the matter; but neither was she anxious +to justify herself. The bitter words Maud had addressed to her did not +rankle in her heart. She could forgive them, because she imagined she +had discerned the true source of the warm feeling they betrayed. In her +passionate outbreak, Maud had unconsciously revealed to her cousin the +secret of her heart.</p> + +<p>If anyone deserved blame, it was Julius Dakin. He had not behaved well. +He, who prided himself on his taste and tact, had certainly committed a +breach of decorum in speaking to Enid of her cousin in the way that he +had. Enid felt vexed with him for causing so much trouble. Indeed, she +believed herself to be seriously angry with him. She was very severe +on him in her own mind. He was just one of those handsome, agreeable, +useless men, who were for ever making mischief in the world. She took +credit for understanding him, and was convinced that if any girl were +proof against his fascinations, it was Enid Mildmay.</p> + +<p>But for Maud, Enid was truly grieved. It must be remembered that Enid +was of a romantic disposition. She loved poetry, and had also a keen +appetite for fiction, though she was guided by fine taste in the +selection of it. But her sound common-sense and the influence of her +active, healthy home life, had prevented her from making herself the +heroine of her day-dreams. She had perhaps as little vanity as a girl +can have. She cherished no illusions regarding herself. But she had her +thoughts concerning that love which is the crown of a woman's life. +She hid them deep within her heart, but they were such as she need not +have been ashamed to avow. The love of which Enid conceived was the +love which the poets have made their theme. She had no idea of the low, +petty, selfish feelings which dare to claim the holy name of love. +She was at the age when girls of imaginative tendency dote on Mrs. +Browning's poems, believe all loves to be eternal, and assert, in the +words of their favourite poet, that—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<br> + ". . . Those never loved,<br> + Who dream that they loved once."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Therefore, when Enid detected in Maud's jealous anger the signs of an +attachment to Julius Dakin, she at once imagined the feeling to be the +deepest and strongest of its kind. Her sister Alice would have been +moved to laughter by such a discovery, and would probably have made +it her endeavour to shame Maud out of her nonsense, as she would have +deemed it. And perhaps in five out of ten of such cases, those who +laugh are justified in doing so.</p> + +<p>But Enid took the matter seriously, and felt profound pity for her +cousin. She had previsions of sorrow and heart-break for Maud, since +she was convinced that Julius had no such attachment to her, nor was +ever likely to have. And perhaps, in spite of her pity for her cousin, +Enid did not regret that this was so. It did not seem to her that +Julius Dakin and Maud were exactly suited to each other.</p> + +<p>Enid had spoken truly when she said that her cousin had great +self-control. This was evinced on the present occasion. After those few +hot words, Maud regained her usual self-possession, and relapsed into +cold, proud dignity. No other allusion was made to the occurrence of +the afternoon. Things went on as before, save that Maud's manner made +Enid aware of a chilling distance between them.</p> + +<p>It was so in the days that followed. Maud was calm and courteous, but +the frigidity of her manner never thawed. Enid was made to feel herself +a culprit, though at the same time nothing was said or done that she +could find just cause to resent. She thought at last that she could +welcome the hottest discussion as an exchange for Maud's icy reserve.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>One morning the two girls were at work in the studio. Neither had +spoken for the space of about half an hour, for they had fallen into +the way of saying little more than was absolutely necessary to each +other. Enid was absorbed in her work; but Maud was dissatisfied with +her task, or not industriously inclined. She would haven been glad to +throw down her brushes and indulge in a chat with her cousin, could she +have done so without sacrificing her dignity. She would have welcomed +any visitor; but it was not an hour at which anyone was likely to call.</p> + +<p>So when a knock was heard, Maud did not suppose for a moment that there +was anyone more interesting than a model at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," she said indifferently.</p> + +<p>But when the door was slowly opened, and the person outside cautiously +presented himself, she uttered a cry which astonished Enid.</p> + +<p>Her cousin looked up and saw a tall young man in the doorway. Brown and +sturdy, with a frank, glad smile on his face and a sparkle in his keen +grey eyes, he was unmistakably an Englishman.</p> + +<p>"Sidney!" exclaimed Maud in her surprise. "Sidney Althorp, it is never +you!"</p> + +<p>"I have reason to believe it is," he replied with mock gravity, as he +came forward and took her hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare!" said Maud. "Of all astonishing things! Who would +have thought of seeing you in Rome?"</p> + +<p>"Not you, evidently. And yet you have always represented Rome to me as +a city to which everyone went, and which I was therefore bound to visit +some day."</p> + +<p>"But I never really thought you would come, for you never like to do +the things which other people do."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Perhaps you are mistaken. At any rate, this is an exception."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the idea of your coming in this way, without informing me of +your intention! And you know I hate surprises."</p> + +<p>"Do you? I am sorry I have displeased you by appearing so unexpectedly. +Shall I take myself off?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You know how glad I am to see you. Do sit down till I get +accustomed to your presence. I still feel as if it could not really be +you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Althorp glanced at Enid ere taking the seat to which Maud motioned +him, and Maud was reminded of her duty to her cousin.</p> + +<p>"Enid," she said, "you have often heard me speak of Mr. Althorp. My +cousin, Miss Mildmay—Mr. Althorp."</p> + +<p>The young man advanced and shook hands with Enid, giving her at the +same time one of his earnest, searching glances. She was struck with +the kind, honest look of his eyes.</p> + +<p>"So this is the Studio Mariano," he said the next minute, calmly +surveying the room. "At last I see it. Can you wonder that when its +fame reached me, I could not rest till I beheld it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be satirical, Sidney," said Maud. "And how did you know it was +called the Studio Mariano? Oh, I suppose papa told you. I dare say he +has read to you all my letters."</p> + +<p>"I have occasionally had the pleasure of listening to extracts from +them."</p> + +<p>"Of course. And how is my father?"</p> + +<p>"He was very well when I left, I am glad to say," replied Mr. Althorp.</p> + +<p>"That is right. I hope he has ceased to lament the waywardness of his +daughter."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that. He has seemed more cheerful of late. He has +been going a good deal to your aunt's house, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am glad to hear that. I knew he would soon cease to miss me, and +take a reasonable view of my absence."</p> + +<p>"You must not suppose that your father has ceased to long for your +return," said Sidney Althorp. "Indeed, he hopes you will not remain +away much longer. He has suggested that you and Miss Mildmay should +return under my protection in three weeks' time."</p> + +<p>A shadow fell on Maud's face.</p> + +<p>"That is out of the question," she said quickly. "Three weeks' time, +indeed! It is impossible. I have engagements that will keep me far +longer in Rome."</p> + +<p>Sidney Althorp said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You have not yet explained how you come to be here," said Maud, +anxious to change the subject. "When did you arrive in Rome?"</p> + +<p>"I arrived this morning, having left London on Monday night. There +was business in Paris which Mr. Marian wished me to undertake, and he +kindly thought that could spare me for a week or two, and suggested +that I should come on here. I believe he thought that the next best +thing to coming himself to fetch you was to send me. I need not say how +gladly I fell in with the suggestion."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Maud; "but you may tell my father that I mean to stay +in Rome till he comes himself to fetch me. So you have travelled here +straight from Paris. How tired you must be!"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I feel quite fresh, and eager to see all I can of +Rome. I hope you are willing to be my 'cicerone.'"</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted. There is nothing I should enjoy more," said Maud +gleefully. "Where shall I take you first?"</p> + +<p>"Wherever you please; you shall choose."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I know what you will like," said Maud. "I suppose, Enid, +you will not care to leave your work?"</p> + +<p>This was not the way in which Maud would formerly have invited Enid +to join her. Enid felt the coldness of her words. She would probably +on any invitation have hesitated to make a third; but as it was, she +felt it impossible to do otherwise than assent to Maud's negative +proposition.</p> + +<p>So Maud and her friend went out together, and Enid was left to pursue +her work alone. She was perhaps disposed to be a little envious of +her cousin. It seemed such a delightful thing for Maud to have this +friend arrive, bringing her news of her father. Enid felt how she would +welcome anyone who came to her with tidings from her home.</p> + +<p>She worked steadily all the forenoon, and returned again to the studio +after luncheon; but the afternoon light was not good, the quiet of +the room became oppressive, and soon Enid could no longer resist her +longing to be in the open air. She laid aside her work and went out.</p> + +<p>It was a grey, chilly, cheerless day. On such a day, so rare in Italy, +Rome does not look like itself. Enid felt the difference the lack of +sunshine made as she passed through various narrow winding streets +to the Forum. Colourless and forsaken looked the old ruins—there was +scarcely a tourist even to be seen. Enid passed on along the Forum and +beneath the Arch of Titus.</p> + +<p>She wandered on without any purpose till she reached the Colosseum. +Then she remembered that she had not yet explored the Cœlian Hill. +Turning to the right, she crossed a plantation of trees, at present +leafless, and then ascended by a steep paved lane, spanned by +picturesque arches of brickwork buttressing the old buildings on the +left, to the Church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo.</p> + +<p>A pretty dark-eyed child in picturesque rags was coming down the hill, +and at the sight of the young lady, she pulled a woebegone face, and, +approaching her, began to beg persistently. Enid had no patience with +the Roman beggars, and never paid heed to their stories; but the +appearance of this girl interested her. She could not believe her +piteous tale, but it occurred to her that Maud might like to employ +the child as a model, so she asked her if she would be willing to pose +as one, gave her the number of the studio in the Via Sistina, and told +her to come there on the following day. The girl seemed pleased, and +readily promised to come.</p> + +<p>Enid went on, and soon gained the piazza above, where she paused to +admire the beauty of the tall campanile, which she had often observed +from a distance. Then a notice caught her eye, attached to a small door +in the side of the church:</p> + +<p>"Enquire at the sacristy for the house of the Holy Saints, S. Giovanni +and S. Paolo."</p> + +<p>At once there came to Enid's recollection, a talk she had had with a +gentleman whom she met at one of Mrs. Dakin's receptions, respecting +this same house. He was an intelligent man, interested in antiquities, +and he had told her about an ancient dwelling which had been discovered +beneath this church, and charged her not to miss seeing it ere she +quitted Rome.</p> + +<p>It was supposed, he said, to be the very house in which St. John and +St. Paul had lived. These saints were officers in the household of the +Christian Princess Constantia, daughter of the Emperor Constantine, who +honoured them and reposed in them great trust. When Julian the Apostate +came to the throne, he attempted to persuade them to sacrifice to +idols; but they were ready to die rather than abjure their faith in the +one living God.</p> + +<p>"Our lives are at the disposal of the emperor," they said, "but our +souls and our faith belong to our God."</p> + +<p>And Julian, fearing the influence of a public martyrdom, had them +privately beheaded in their own house. This church, which bore their +names, had been erected to mark the spot where they were martyred.</p> + +<p>Remembering all this, Enid felt a desire to see the interior of the +church, and, if possible, the house which had recently been excavated +beneath it. She crossed the piazza to the door, lifted the heavy +curtain, and entered. As she glanced around, she experienced a sense of +disappointment. The interior of the old church was not so interesting +as she had been led to expect. Bare whitewashed walls met her view, +broken by old pillars, which appeared at some period to have undergone +painting. Above the pillars were plain glass windows, which flooded the +church with light, and rendered painfully clear its lack of beauty. +Towards the centre of the nave, there was in the pavement a square +stone enclosed within iron railings.</p> + +<p>A monk who was standing near it explained to Enid that this was the +very stone on which the saints were beheaded. Their bodies, he said, +reposed in a porphyry urn beneath the high altar. Several monks wearing +the black habit of the Passionists, whose convent adjoins the church, +were moving about within the building. Some of them were busy hanging +crimson and tinsel drapery about the tribune, in preparation apparently +for a "festa." The colour thus imparted was grateful to the eye, +affording a welcome relief to the prevailing whitewash.</p> + +<p>Enid went forward to observe the frescoes by Pomerancio. She made an +enquiry of an aged monk, who seemed to be superintending the movements +of the others, concerning the subterranean house. He told her rather +snappishly that she could not see it that afternoon; it was too cold +and damp. Enid did not, however, at once give up the idea of seeing it. +She lingered awhile, for other visitors were entering the church, and +she hoped there might yet be an opportunity of descending.</p> + +<p>A party of travellers, evidently German, were making the tour of the +church. Enid followed them as they entered a chapel on the right of +the nave. This was a modern addition, the splendid adornments of which +afforded a striking contrast to the plainness of the old church. +Pillars of alabaster supported the gilded ceiling, above which opened +a painted dome. Here there was no lack of colour. Polished marbles of +various kinds adorned the walls, the floor was inlaid with the same, +the high altar was richly gilded, and above it, as above each of the +side altars, was a picture of imposing proportions, though Enid found +none of them satisfactory from an artistic point of view.</p> + +<p>Gazing up at the pictures, Enid slowly approached the altar, before +which the party of tourists, accompanied by one of the monks, were +grouped. As they moved a little to make way for her, Enid started, and +experienced a strange thrill as she came thus unexpectedly upon the +object they were examining with curious interest.</p> + +<p>Below the altar was a large glass case, in which lay, in an attitude of +calm repose, the embalmed body of an aged monk, wearing the habit of +the Passionists. The waxen hue of death was unmistakable, but the still +face wore an expression of heavenly peace. The pale hand still held the +breviary it had used in life. There was something very impressive in +this sudden vision of the sublime repose and majesty of death.</p> + +<p>"Whose body is this?" Enid enquired of the young monk who was in +attendance on the party.</p> + +<p>"St. Paul's," he answered; then seeing that his words conveyed to her +no information, he added reverently, "It is that of our founder, St. +Paul of the Cross."</p> + +<p>Then he went to the back of the altar, touched a spring, and the gilded +cover of the sarcophagus slid again into its place, hiding the form of +the dead man.</p> + +<p>Enid lingered for a few moments in the chapel which been raised to the +memory of this notable saint, who died in 1776. Then she followed in +the direction taken by the others. She saw them in a little chapel at +the end of the right aisle; but ere she reached it, they were already +descending the flight of steps which led down from this spot to the +subterranean house. Enid hastened to join the party. A monk was just +closing behind them the door at the head of the stairs; but at Enid's +approach, he opened it, thrust a small piece of lighted candle into her +hand, and bade her follow the others.</p> + +<p>Enid kept pretty much in the rear of the party, whose noisy comments +on what they saw were not to her taste. She could not hear the account +given by the monk who led them, of each room they entered; but she +had heard enough of the nature of the discoveries to draw her own +conclusions respecting each. She preferred to follow at her own pace, +and look about her in a leisurely manner. There was much of interest +to be seen. The old solid walls, with frescoes still perfectly +distinguishable remaining in places, the oratory of the saints with +a model of the primitive altar used there in the second century, the +beautiful "amphorae," and various relics which had been discovered in +the excavations, had all a fascination for Enid. She lingered for some +minutes in a chamber which she heard the monk call the "cantina," and +which contained a collection of old water-vessels and cups, with the +exquisite forms of which she was charmed.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she became aware that there was danger in thus lingering. +The others had all passed on. She hurried her steps, that she might +overtake them; but she mistook the way in the narrow passages, and came +back again to the room from which she had started. She turned again, +when a sound reached her ear which filled her with dismay. It was a +heavy, jarring noise, as of a door closing above. Surely they had not +closed the door upon her, and left her alone in these gloomy vaults!</p> + +<p>Enid was frightened, but she would not give way to fear. She set out +again, observing more carefully the way she took, and presently reached +the flight of steps leading up into the church. It was as she had +feared.</p> + +<p>The iron door at the top was securely fastened. Still Enid would +not give way to alarm. She rapped with her knuckles on the door, +she shouted at the top of her voice, but without result. Her voice +resounded hollowly through the vaults, but it was powerless to +penetrate to the church above, and the solid thickness of the door +defied all her efforts.</p> + +<p>Was it possible they had forgotten she was there? Then a worse doubt +struck dread to her heart. Had they ever been aware of her presence? +She had kept behind them all; she had spoken to none of the party. She +felt almost sure that the old monk had not cast a glance at her.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible situation. Gradually the full horror of it dawned +upon her mind. It was purely by accident that she had come to this +church. No one would think of seeking her there. No one would have the +least clue to her whereabouts, for it was quite aimlessly that she had +wandered out this afternoon. If she could not succeed in making herself +heard, she would have to spend the night where she was. Who could say +how many hours it would be ere anyone opened that door? Brave as she +was, Enid shuddered at the thought. She glanced at the bit of candle in +her hand. Already it was almost burned out.</p> + +<p>At this moment, the swelling notes of an organ reached her ears, +accompanied after a few moments by the sound of voices chanting in +unison. The monks were singing their vespers in the church above. Again +Enid put forth her utmost efforts, hammering on the door, shouting, +screaming, but with no better success than before. The thick iron door, +the solid roof above, deadened effectually the greatest noise she could +produce.</p> + +<p>She was well-nigh in despair, but it occurred to her that ere the light +went out, and left her helpless in the darkness, it would be well to +explore the chambers again, and see if she could discover any other +outlet. So she went through them once more, looking about her with +the utmost care. She did discover a small wooden door at the end of +a passage, which apparently had been used by the workmen during the +excavations. But it was locked, and she knocked long on it without +receiving any response. Apparently on this side, the old house was +quite remote from human life.</p> + +<p>By this time, the candle had burned almost to her fingers, and she +hastily made her way back to the steps ere its light went out. Placing +the last morsel on the step beside her, she sat down and watched it +expire.</p> + +<p>As with one last flicker its light vanished, Enid's courage died also. +The darkness which settled on her seemed like the darkness of the +grave. She covered her face with her hands to shut out the blackness +which looked so terrible, and burst into hopeless tears.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +SEARCHING FOR THE LOST<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MAUD did not return to her "pension" till the evening. She had +thoroughly enjoyed going about Rome with Sidney Althorp. It was so +long since she had seen him that his society was very welcome, and she +listened eagerly to all he could tell her of her circle of acquaintance +at home. Nothing occurred to mar the pleasure of their meeting, and +she came back in excellent spirits. She thought more kindly of Enid as +she climbed the long flight of stairs to their dwelling. She hoped her +cousin had not been dull; but she had no time to seek her then, for it +wanted but ten minutes to the dinner hour.</p> + +<p>Maud made her toilette with all haste, but by the time she reached the +dining-room, most of the company were already seated at the table. +She saw to her surprise that Enid's place was empty. She sat down, +expecting at every moment that Enid would appear; but she did not come.</p> + +<p>"Is your cousin not coming to dinner this evening, Miss Marian?" +enquired Signora Grassi.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell," said Maud. "We have not been together this afternoon. +I came in late, and did not go to her room. If you will excuse me, I +will go there now. I fear she is not well."</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble to go—I will send a servant," said Signora Grassi.</p> + +<p>She did so, and the servant returned saying that Miss Mildmay was not +in her room.</p> + +<p>Maud was astonished, but hardly alarmed. It occurred to her that Enid +had perhaps gone to Mrs. Dakin's that afternoon, and been persuaded +to stay and dine there. Still, it was hardly like Enid to do such a +thing without sending word to her cousin. She was generally careful to +avoid causing inconvenience or anxiety to others. But Maud reflected, +with a twinge of conscience, that of late she had shown so little +consideration for Enid that her cousin might well think that she was +not likely to be disturbed by her absence for a few hours.</p> + +<p>Signora Grassi looked rather uneasy. "Miss Mildmay is perhaps with +friends," she suggested. "You know, I suppose, where she was going this +afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have not an idea," said Maud. "She had formed no plans when +I left her."</p> + +<p>"This was Mrs. Dakin's afternoon for being 'At home,'" said Miss Guy. +"Your cousin very likely went there, and Mr. Julius Dakin has induced +her to remain awhile. She will return presently under his protection."</p> + +<p>Maud glanced at the speaker with an air of disdain. "You may be right +as to Miss Mildmay's being at Mrs. Dakin's," she said haughtily. "It +seems to me a probable solution of the mystery. I feel no alarm about +my cousin. She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but there are such dangers in Rome!" said Signora Grassi, with a +little nervous shiver. "And Miss Mildmay is so courageous. She seems +not to know what fear is. I have always been afraid lest she should +venture too much. However, it is all right if she is at Mrs. Dakin's."</p> + +<p>This was by no means certain, however. Maud ate her dinner with +apparent equanimity; but in truth she was feeling uneasy, and her +uneasiness increased as the evening wore on. As soon as dinner was +over, she hastened to Enid's room, half hoping to find her there. The +deserted look of the room was depressing. An examination of Enid's +wardrobe showed her that Enid had gone out in the ordinary dress she +wore in the studio. She would probably have made some change in her +attire, had she contemplated a visit to Mrs. Dakin. But if not at Mrs. +Dakin's, where was Enid? She had no intimate friends in Rome. She never +paid visits except in the company of her cousin. Maud could think of no +place where she was likely to be found.</p> + +<p>With fears that could no longer be suppressed, she hurried to consult +with Signora Grassi. She met that lady in the corridor, and a glance +showed that she shared her anxiety.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the signora, "I cannot rest for thinking of your +cousin. Suppose she should not be at Mrs. Dakin's! Do you not think we +should send there to enquire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Maud breathlessly; "we should have sent there before. +There is no time to be lost. I will go myself at once!"</p> + +<p>She hastily put on her hat, drew a large fur-lined cloak over her +evening dress, and ran down the stairs. At the corner of the street, +one of the small open carriages so common in Rome was standing. Maud +sprang into it, and told the man to drive with all speed to Mr. Dakin's +house. The horse was tired, and the man's utmost efforts could not +induce it to proceed rapidly. The distance to be traversed was not +great, but it seemed to Maud in her impatience as if they would never +reach the house. At last, the door was gained, and she learned from the +porter to her relief that the Dakins were at home.</p> + +<p>As she insisted that she must see Mrs. Dakin at once, the servant +ushered her, just as she was, into the drawing-room. A lady and +gentleman from Washington had been dining with Mr. and Mrs. Dakin, and +two young German tourists were also present.</p> + +<p>Miss Amory was seated at the piano, singing, with imperfect mastery of +the language, an Italian song when Maud entered; Julius stood at her +side. The singer turned as the door opened, and catching sight of Miss +Marian's white agitated face, at once ceased singing, whilst Julius +hurried forward with an air of alarm. For a few moments, Maud could not +speak. She gazed round the room half dazed, and was conscious only that +Enid was not there.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Marian, what is the matter?" It was Mrs. Dakin's voice +that roused her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hoped I should find Enid here," said Maud, in a tone of deep +distress. "Can you give me any news of her? She has not been home since +the afternoon, and we cannot tell where she is."</p> + +<p>"What! You do not mean that Miss Mildmay is lost, and in Rome of all +places!" exclaimed Miss Amory, in her high voice.</p> + +<p>This was more than Maud could bear. She sank on a chair, feeling faint +and heart-sick, and fearing to lose all control of herself.</p> + +<p>Julius Dakin came to her side. It might have been observed that he had +grown very pale; but he spoke in a calm, decided tone.</p> + +<p>"Do not distress yourself, Miss Marian; there may be no real cause for +alarm. Just tell me what you know of your cousin's movements, and I +will see what can be done."</p> + +<p>His cool, quiet manner restored Maud's courage.</p> + +<p>"The worst of it is that I know nothing," she said. "A friend from +London, a gentleman who is in my father's business, called to see me +this morning; he persuaded me to go out with him to show him Rome. I +left Enid busy with her painting. I did not get home till close upon +dinner-time, and not till I reached the table did I learn that Enid had +not come in, and no one knew where she was. I at once imagined that she +must be here."</p> + +<p>"She has not been to see me," said Mrs. Dakin. "But have you no idea of +what she intended to do?"</p> + +<p>"Not the least," said Maud. "I do not think she had formed any plans +for to-day."</p> + +<p>"You have enquired at the studio, of course?" said Julius.</p> + +<p>"No, I have not—I never thought of doing so," said Maud.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear, I should have enquired there the first thing," said Mrs. +Dakin. "Something may have occurred to detain her there. She may even +have met with an accident."</p> + +<p>"In that case, some one surely would have let me know," replied Maud.</p> + +<p>"One would think so," said Julius. "But there is Miss Strutt—she may be +able to tell you something about your cousin."</p> + +<p>"To be sure. How foolish of me not to have thought of her before!" said +Maud rising. "I will go to her at once."</p> + +<p>"I will come with you," said Julius.</p> + +<p>And they started without delay.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, they were at the house in the Via Sistina. The door +was closed, and Julius had some difficulty in arresting the attention +of the porter, who evidently did not expect visitors so late in the +evening. He came grumbling to the door; but his manner changed when he +saw the gentleman and lady. He could give no information concerning +Enid, but his wife, who came out at the sound of voices, said that the +young lady had brought her the key of the studio about half-past three, +and had gone away. She had not noticed in what direction she turned.</p> + +<p>"Then we shall not find her here," said Maud in a disappointed tone to +Julius as they went up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Don't give up hope," he said. "We may gain some clue to her +whereabouts." But his own heart was heavy with dread.</p> + +<p>They opened the door of the studio and went in. All was in perfect +order—Enid had put things carefully away ere she left the studio. The +pictures and delicate fabrics were covered in preparation for the +morning's sweeping. It suddenly struck Maud how much she owed to Enid's +thoughtfulness: how many little services Enid constantly rendered her +which she took almost as a matter of course! But now, as she looked +about her, and saw everywhere the trace of Enid's careful hands, the +sight struck such pain to her heart as we feel when we look on the last +work wrought for us by some loving one whom death has removed from our +side.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she exclaimed, overcome by the anguish of the thought. "How good +Enid has always been to me! And I—I have been a perfect wretch to her! +How can I bear it if any harm has come to her!"</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't give way," said Julius, but his own voice was hoarse. "Let +us go to Miss Strutt—she may be able to tell us something."</p> + +<p>So they went down the cold dark staircase, and found their way, by the +light of the wax taper Julius carried, to Miss Strutt's door. The house +seemed empty and deserted, for few of the artists who worked there by +day remained at their studios after daylight had gone. In the midst of +her distress, Maud wondered how Miss Strutt could bear to live there +all alone.</p> + +<p>Although it was barely nine o'clock, Miss Strutt was already preparing +for rest. At any other time, Maud would have been intensely amused at +the droll figure she presented as she looked out of the door, attired +in an old tartan dressing-gown, with her head tied up in a flowered +silk handkerchief. She betrayed some discomposure at finding herself +confronted by a gentleman when thus "déshabillée;" but no sooner did +she hear the news he brought, than she forgot herself entirely in +concern for Enid.</p> + +<p>"I know nothing of her—I have not seen her all day!" she exclaimed. "Oh +dear, dear me! Our little Enid lost! What a lamentable thing! Wait a +minute whilst I dress myself, and I will come with you to seek her."</p> + +<p>"Can you make any suggestion as to where we should seek her?" asked +Julius, not thinking that Miss Strutt's presence was likely to be of +much assistance.</p> + +<p>"How can I? She said nothing to me of any intention, unless—She may +possibly have gone to the Villa Mattei. It is open on Thursdays, and I +know she meant to go there some day."</p> + +<p>"That is an idea," said Julius. "We will make enquiries in that +direction."</p> + +<p>"Let us go there at once," said Maud, turning to accompany him.</p> + +<p>But he gently checked her.</p> + +<p>"Not you," he said. "I am going to ask Miss Strutt to take care of you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not need to be taken care of," said Maud, indignantly. "I +am going to look for Enid; I will not rest till I find her!"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible that you should wander abroad this cold night," he +replied firmly. Then he added in a gentler, somewhat tremulous tone, +"Do you not see that the search may last all night? You will be brave +and strong, I hope. You will return to the 'pension' with Miss Strutt, +if she will accompany you, and await what tidings we may bring. Who +knows? Your cousin may return there very soon. Whenever she comes, she +will want you."</p> + +<p>Maud was obliged to yield to him, though she yielded reluctantly.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Miss Strutt as she observed him that the young man's +character had undergone a transformation. She could see that he was +intensely anxious about Enid—that the thought of her peril gave him +the utmost pain, and she was not surprised. But the self-control, +firmness, and decision he displayed did surprise her. She had not given +him credit for such qualities. She had imagined him to be simply a +frivolous, pleasure-loving, rather conceited young man. She now saw +that there was more in him than she had supposed.</p> + +<p>"Enquire of the guards at the Forum and the Colosseum," she said to him +ere he left. "Enid goes so often to those places that they must know +her well."</p> + +<p>Julius, impatient of every moment of inaction, departed in haste. If he +had been ignorant before of the nature of the feeling which drew him +to Enid Mildmay, this night was destined to reveal it to him. His mind +was in an agony as he drove towards the Colosseum. He knew too well +the hidden dangers of Rome into which a young and inexperienced girl +might fall. All kinds of terrible possibilities suggested themselves +to his imagination, and he blamed himself for never having given +Enid the least warning that it was possible to be too adventurous in +exploring Rome. Yet in truth the idea of peril in connexion with Enid's +wanderings had never before suggested itself to him. Enid's courage and +simplicity had seemed a sufficient safeguard for her. And what right +had he to interfere with her movements? But he vowed within himself +that if he found her safe and well, he would not rest till he had won +the right to watch over her in future. It should not be his fault if +she strayed into danger again.</p> + +<p>The moon was slowly rising behind the Colosseum, and beginning to +illumine with its rays the grand old walls. Already there were +carriages standing at the entrance, and the sound of voices and +laughter from within announced that a party of American tourists were +"doing" the Colosseum by moonlight. Julius alighted and made enquiries +at the entrance, but could learn nothing of Enid there.</p> + +<p>He passed on towards the Cœlian on foot, making enquiry of everyone +he met of whom it appeared in the least probable that he might obtain +tidings of Enid. By doing so, he attracted considerable attention. +The news that a young English lady was lost passed rapidly from one +to another. Curiosity or the hope of gain drew people after him. To +his annoyance, he found himself attended by a crowd of persons, who +harassed him with questions and suggestions that were mostly wide of +the mark.</p> + +<p>Crossing the open ground at the right of the Colosseum, Julius paused +at the end of one of the paths and looked about him in perplexity. +Which way should he take? A little below to the right was the church of +S. Gregorio. To the left the steep arched lane ascended to the church +of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. Was it likely she had entered either of these +churches? Should he visit them, or hurry on without delay to the Villa +Mattei, and ask if she had been there that afternoon?</p> + +<p>As he hesitated, someone pulled his sleeve. He looked round, and saw +a small girl by his side. Her face was half hidden by the black hair +which hung over it, but her large dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"The signor seeks a Signorina Inglese?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Julius eagerly.</p> + +<p>"'Una piccola, brunetta con aria forte?'" ("A little one, of brown +complexion and healthy appearance?")</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"The signorina is an artist; she has a studio in the Via Sistina?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is she!" exclaimed Julius, unable to restrain his impatience. +"Tell me at once what you know about her."</p> + +<p>"The signorina passed up here this afternoon," replied the girl, +pointing up the lane. "She spoke to me, and gave me a soldo, and said +that if I would come to her studio to-morrow, she would perhaps employ +me as a model."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; and where did she go? Did you watch her?"</p> + +<p>"She went into the church," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"And afterwards—did you see her come out?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; I did not see her again, though I waited long outside the +church, for I had forgotten the number of her studio, and I wanted to +ask her."</p> + +<p>Julius stayed to hear no more. With rapid strides, he ascended the +steep road. The church was closed at this hour. With a vigorous hand, +Julius pulled the bell at the door of the adjoining monastery. His loud +summons brought the porter in haste to the door. He was about to demur +to admitting a visitor so late in the evening, but ere he could get the +words out, Julius had pushed him aside and entered.</p> + +<p>"I must speak with one of the reverend brethren at once," he said. +"Here—take my card, and say that my business brooks of no delay."</p> + +<p>The man, overawed by his imperious manner, obeyed instantly. And the +effect of his message or his name—for the banker was a person of +importance in Roman society, although not of the Roman Church—was such +that in a few moments a monk appeared. He was one who had been in the +church and had spoken with Enid that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said, as Julius hastily explained what brought him. +"I remember the young lady you describe. She was in the church this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"And when did she leave it?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot say," he replied. "The last I saw of her was when she +descended to the subterranean house in the company of Brother Tomaso. +I know that she did so, for I lighted her candle and saw her down the +stairs."</p> + +<p>"Where is Brother Tomaso?" demanded Julius Dakin.</p> + +<p>"I do not know; I will seek him instantly," said the monk, impressed by +Mr. Dakin's manner, and catching the contagion of his excitement.</p> + +<p>He disappeared, and in a few minutes returned accompanied by a monk +much older than himself, who walked with a feeble step.</p> + +<p>And now a strange thing happened. Neither Julius nor the younger monk +could succeed in recalling Enid to the old man's recollection. He +persisted in saying that no such young lady had formed one of the party +he had conducted through the ancient house. He grew angry with his +young brother when he maintained that he was mistaken, since he himself +had seen the young English lady follow the others.</p> + +<p>"If you saw her descend, perhaps you also saw her come out," he said, +"for I did not. There were but two ladies in the party, and they were +German, and good Catholics, for I saw them take the holy water ere they +quitted the church, and they gave me a franc for our offertory."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible," exclaimed Julius, violently agitated, "that she has +been left behind in those dismal vaults? She may have fallen, or have +fainted. There is no knowing what horrible thing may have happened to +her there."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible!" exclaimed the younger monk. "But calm yourself, +signor. We will descend at once and ascertain if she is there."</p> + +<p>It was with difficulty Julius could control his agitation. The younger +monk lighted a lantern, found the keys, and led the way into the +church. He entered the little chapel, descended the steps, and unlocked +strong iron door. Julius, who followed closely, shook with a nervous +tremor as the door was opened. He advanced with a sensation of dread, +but the next moment a cry of joy escaped him.</p> + +<p>The light held by the monk fell upon the form of Enid seated on a stone +step, her head drooping against an angle of the wall, and her eyes +closed in sleep.</p> + +<p>At the sound of Julius' cry, she moved and opened her eyes: they met +his with a dazed, startled look; then she smiled, and said in a simple, +child-like way—</p> + +<p>"Ah, you have come!—I knew you would come!"</p> + +<p>"Enid, dearest Enid," he said with passionate earnestness, "you can +never know how thankful I am to find you safe at last! To think of your +being shut up in this horrid place!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she said faintly, as he helped her to rise. "Do not say +anything about it now."</p> + +<p>She was weak and stiff. He put his arms about her and helped her to +ascend the stairs. The monk hastened to fetch wine; she drank some and +her strength revived.</p> + +<p>"Are you well enough to drive home now?" Julius asked presently. "Your +cousin is in great anxiety about you."</p> + +<p>"Then let us start at once," said Enid. "Indeed I am strong."</p> + +<p>But she was still unable to talk over what had happened, and the drive +passed almost in silence.</p> + +<p>Maud would never forget the relief she experienced when, just as she +was ready to give up all hope, and abandon herself to the most gloomy +forebodings, Julius appeared accompanied by Enid. All the coldness and +constraint that had arisen between the two melted away in the joy of +this reunion. If Enid had ever doubted whether her cousin had any real +affection for her, she was assured of it now. Maud could not do enough +for her. She overwhelmed Enid with loving attentions.</p> + +<p>"Now I have you safe and sound again, I mean to take better care of +you," she said. "You will not be allowed to go wandering off alone any +more, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>She insisted on having her bed placed in Enid's room that she might be +with her during the night. "For if you wake and find yourself alone, +Enid," she said, "you will be fancying yourself back in that dreadful +place."</p> + +<p>Enid was very tired, and glad to lie down, but it was long ere sleep +came to her. The day's adventure had wrought in her an excitement of +mind which would not yield to repose. Nor was Maud's state of mind more +tranquil. When they had been lying down for more than an hour, she +heard Enid moving restlessly on her bed, and spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"You cannot sleep, Enid?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Enid wearily; "I do not feel in the least like sleeping."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Maud. "I keep thinking it all over, and imagining all +kinds of things that might have happened."</p> + +<p>"That is not a profitable occupation," said Enid. "It is not like you +to indulge your imagination in that way."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not," said Maud. "But, Enid, you cannot think how miserable +I felt when you were lost. I kept thinking how horrid I had been to you +during this past week. I should never have forgiven myself if any harm +had come to you. And now, will you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, if there is anything to forgive," said Enid. "But you +misunderstood me—that was all."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Maud. "You must not try to find excuses +for me; I know I behaved very badly. But, Enid, do tell me how you +managed to endure being shut up in that dark underground place. If it +had happened to me, I should have gone mad."</p> + +<p>"I felt like that at first," said Enid, tremulously. "The first +half-hour was dreadful. I thought there would be rats and mice, and all +sorts of horrible things in the darkness; and it seemed as if I could +not bear it. I grew cold and sick, and shook from head to with fear. +But then I thought of the martyrs who had suffered in that place so +many years ago. I remembered how they must have lived in constant dread +for long ere they were put to death. I thought how many in those days, +women and young girls even, had found strength to endure the utmost +tortures rather than deny their faith, and my own suffering seemed +slight in comparison. Sooner or later, I felt sure that I should be set +free. I had only to spend a few hours in cold and darkness, that was +all."</p> + +<p>"All!" echoed Maud. "I should think it was enough. Oh, you dear, brave, +heroic Enid!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I felt anything but heroic," replied her cousin. "God must +have sent the thoughts that gave me comfort. I thought of home and of +mother. I remembered that in a little time they would be gathered for +family prayers, and I knew they would pray for me. Then I prayed, and I +felt that my prayer was heard. The love of God, in which I have always +believed in a way, became to me then such a blessed reality. I felt +that God was near, and would watch over me. My mind grew more and more +peaceful, till at last, in spite of every discomfort, I fell asleep. I +don't know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes, Julius Dakin +stood beside me, and my trouble was over."</p> + +<p>"Julius was very good and kind," said Maud. "He was ready to do +anything. If you had been his sister, he could not have shown more +anxiety about you."</p> + +<p>To this Enid made no reply. They ceased talking, and presently Maud +fell asleep. But the allusion to Julius Dakin had started Enid on a +fresh train of thought, and one not calculated to lessen her excitement +of mind.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +AT THE VILLA MATTEI<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ALTHOUGH she had come so bravely out of her misadventure, Enid felt +the effects of it for some days, and looked pale and languid. She was +embarrassed by finding herself the object of general attention.</p> + +<p>She said, "I realize the kindness which prompts all this fuss, but +still I am growing tired of the subject of my escapade."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder," said Maud; "but you gave us all a great fright, and +now you must bear the consequences, and expect to be watched over with +extra care."</p> + +<p>Of course Sidney Althorp heard the whole story of how Enid was lost +and found. Maud told him everything the next day with a fullness which +astonished Enid, frankly confessing that she had been as "horrid +as possible" to her cousin during the previous week. Certainly, if +Maud was given to complimenting herself, and at times exhibited an +insupportable egotism, she was also wont, when once convinced of any +fault, to confess it with winning openness.</p> + +<p>Enid wondered a little at the relation Sidney Althorp seemed to hold +towards her cousin. He treated her with a frankness and freedom which +no other friend would have dared to assume. He did not hesitate +to criticise her words and actions, nor did he hide from her any +disapproval he might feel. No one was less inclined to flatter her. +His attitude towards her was almost that of a brother, and yet +instinctively Enid felt that his interest in Maud was not simply of +that nature.</p> + +<p>On the second day after Enid's adventure, Mrs. Dakin called to take +her for a drive. Julius was in the carriage with his mother and Miss +Amory, and he came up to the Studio Mariano to bring the invitation. He +found Sidney Althorp there, who had just called to take Maud out. Maud +introduced the gentlemen to each other.</p> + +<p>"My mother thought that Miss Mildmay ought not to attempt work to-day," +said Julius. "She thinks there is nothing so good as fresh air for one +who has experienced a nervous shock. There will be room for you also in +the carriage, Miss Marian; but I am afraid I cannot offer Mr. Althorp a +place inside. He is welcome to my seat on the box."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," said that gentleman, "but indeed I must not think +of anything so leisurely as a drive for mere enjoyment. My time in Rome +is limited, unfortunately, and I have to make a serious business of +sight-seeing."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see! You are 'doing' Rome, as the Americans say," returned +Julius Dakin. "I shall never forget the amazement I experienced when, +one day at the Vatican, a lady came up to me and asked,—</p> + +<p>"'Can you tell me if I have seen the Pantheon?'</p> + +<p>"'Really, madam,' I replied, 'that is a question which you can best +answer yourself.'</p> + +<p>"'But can't you tell me what it's like?' she returned.</p> + +<p>"Whereupon I did my best to describe to her the glories of the +Pantheon. But ere I had got half through my description, she +interrupted me by saying,—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, I guess I've seen that; we've seen a lot of old churches anyway,' +and was off."</p> + +<p>"How absurd!" said Enid laughing. "It always seems to me a shame that +such persons should come to Rome, especially when so many who would +thoroughly appreciate its grand associations are unable to come. We +were so amused the other day to hear a gentleman say to his daughters +that they must look at one of the statues because it was 'starred' in +'Baedeker!'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Maud, "and another of the party furnished the information +that everything marked with a star was by Michael Angelo! But please do +not imagine that Mr. Althorp does his sight-seeing in that fashion."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Mr. Althorp gravely. "It is kind of you to say that. +I was beginning to feel horribly guilty of being a mere tourist with +a desire to see as much of Rome as is possible in a few days. Now I +will confess that I had planned to see the Baths of Caracalla this +afternoon, and also the Catacombs of S. Callixtus. I had hoped to +persuade Miss Marian to accompany me, but I waive my invitation in +favour of yours."</p> + +<p>Enid saw a slight shadow fall on Maud's face; but probably no one else +remarked it, or that she hesitated for a few moments ere she answered +brightly, "No, indeed, you shall not do that. Mrs. Dakin will perhaps +give me the pleasure of driving with her some other afternoon, but +I cannot hope for much more of your company. Besides, who knows but +you may fall into some blunder if I am not at your side to impart +information?"</p> + +<p>"It is possible to be misled by one's guide," said Althorp gravely, +though with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "But of course you are +always accurately informed."</p> + +<p>"How mean of you to insinuate the contrary!" cried Maud. "I have a +great mind to say that I will not go with you after all."</p> + +<p>But she did go. Enid left her preparing for the excursion, and went +down to the carriage with Julius Dakin. It was the first time she had +seen either Mrs. Dakin or Miss Amory since her eventful experience, and +they were eager to hear all about it from her own lips.</p> + +<p>They began to question her, but Julius interposed to spare her the +trouble of replying to their questions. It was really clever, the +brief, terse way in which he replied to their queries, and presently +contrived to divert them from the subject.</p> + +<p>Enid was grateful for the kindness which discerned that the +recollection was painful to her, and wished to prevent her from +dwelling on it. But it hardly seemed as if the kindness had its reward. +It might have been observed that Enid never addressed Julius during the +drive. She took part in the general conversation, and showed no lack +of animation; but she was careful to look at everything and everybody +except the gentleman who sat opposite to her.</p> + +<p>Not once could Julius succeed in arresting her glance. But he was +amused rather than disturbed at being thus baulked. His nature was far +too buoyant for his hopes to be quickly dashed. He did not think it +strange that Enid should be a little shy of him now. It was easy to +interpret that shyness in a way agreeable to his feelings.</p> + +<p>They passed out of the city by the Porta Pia, close to which a number +of faded wreaths hanging on the wall mark the spot where the breach was +made through which the Italian troops entered Rome on September 20, +1870.</p> + +<p>After a while they crossed the famous Anio, down which, according to +the legend, floated the cradle bearing the babes Romulus and Remus, +by the picturesque battlemented bridge known as the Ponte Nomentano. +Beyond rose a hill which Julius informed them was the Mons Sacer of +historic interest.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's that?" asked Miss Amory.</p> + +<p>"The hill to which the Plebs retired after their revolt in B.C. 549, +and where Agrippa delivered his famous apologue to them. Do you not +remember?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not," she replied; "and for goodness' sake, don't expect me +to remember things that happened so long ago as that. It is as much as +I can do to remember what belongs to my own century."</p> + +<p>At the brow of the hill, Julius checked the coachman, and proposed that +they should alight and climb a hillock on the left which commanded a +fine view. Mrs. Dakin elected to remain in the carriage, and Miss Amory +was disposed to keep her company; but Enid would not allow that.</p> + +<p>"Do come," she said, taking her hand; "you must not be lazy. You really +ought to see this view."</p> + +<p>Miss Amory laughed and yielded. She cared little about the view, but +she was good-natured, and it was enough that Enid wished her to come.</p> + +<p>"I shall spoil my boots," she said in a distressed tone, looking +anxiously at her dainty little feet as they scrambled up the rough bank.</p> + +<p>They had gained a grassy ridge, shaded by grand old pines, and +overlooking the vast Campagna, which stretched away to right and +left—not as a flat plain, but breaking into soft billowy undulations of +greyish green, with here and there an old farmhouse appearing in the +distance, or a mediæval tower surrounded by pine trees. On the opposite +side of the road by which they had come rose a picturesque castle with +battlemented tower and a "loggia" on the roof. Beyond to the right lay +the Alban Hills, their lower slopes now bathed in a soft blue mist, but +the sunlight on the snow above; whilst rising behind them, distinctly +visible in the clear atmosphere, was a chain of snowy peaks—the distant +Apennines. To the left stretched a magnificent mountain wall, the +Sabine range, every peak and curve clearly outlined against the blue +sky, whilst below the snow the hill-sides showed a lovely play of light +and shadow changing in hue from deep blue to reddish purple.</p> + +<p>The scene exhibited in perfection that richness of colour peculiar to +Italian scenery which it is almost impossible for painters to render +truly. To complete the picture there was in the immediate foreground +a flock of sheep, near which were grouped several picturesque-looking +peasants of the Campagna in their sheepskin garments.</p> + +<p>"I call this quite idyllic," said Julius, pointing to the group. "Do +you not feel inspired to paint a picture, Miss Mildmay?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have been thinking how much I should like to come here to +paint some day," replied Enid. "That castle and those old pines, with +the Alban Hills beyond, would make a good sketch."</p> + +<p>"They would. You would make something charming of it, I am sure. But +remember, you are not to think of coming here alone. You must allow me +to accompany you as your guardian. We cannot let you stray into danger +again."</p> + +<p>Enid coloured.</p> + +<p>"I shall regret my unlucky accident more than ever," she said quickly, +"if my movements are for ever to be restrained by a recollection of it. +It is too absurd to talk as if there were danger everywhere. Maud was +actually trying to persuade me that I ought not to go alone to sketch +at the Villa Mattei to-morrow, so public as that is on a Thursday +afternoon!"</p> + +<p>"She is right; you cannot be too careful," he said gravely. "I hope you +will not think of going there alone."</p> + +<p>He spoke with a tone of authority which disturbed Enid's equanimity. +She wished she had not mentioned the Villa Mattei.</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't come out to a lonely place like this by myself for +a king's ransom," observed Miss Amory. "I'm going back to Mrs. Dakin. +I guess she's tired of sitting there in the carriage by herself. +But don't let me hurry you two. Stay and go into raptures over the +mountains as long as you please."</p> + +<p>But Enid turned at once and followed closely in her steps. If Julius +had hoped to gain a word with her alone, he was disappointed. In a +few minutes, they were in the carriage, from which they did not again +alight till they reached home.</p> + +<p>Maud returned a little later than her cousin, and when they met, it was +evident that something had occurred to put her out of humour.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had gone with you," she said discontentedly; "it would have +been so much pleasanter to drive in Mrs. Dakin's easy carriage than to +tramp about ruins with a tiresome man."</p> + +<p>"A tiresome man!" repeated Enid in astonishment. "You found Mr. Althorp +tiresome!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I did. He was in one of his most provoking moods. He wanted to +persuade me to go home next month—talked to me about its being my duty +to do so, and altogether made himself as disagreeable as possible. At +last, I fairly quarrelled with him."</p> + +<p>"That was a pity," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, it was," said Maud, rather regretfully; "but really it +was too bad of him. He told me that if I did not go home and do a +daughter's duty by my father, I should regret it in days to come. He +abuses the privilege of an old friend, and I will not endure it."</p> + +<p>"But why should he say that?" asked Enid. "Is your father in any +special need of you just now?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Sidney just says it to annoy me, I believe. He loves to +pose as my mentor. He made me as cross as possible."</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate you should quarrel with him just as he is going +away," observed Enid. "You will be sorry when he is gone."</p> + +<p>"No, I shall not," said Maud; "and as for quarrelling with him, it is +after all impossible to have a real good quarrel with Sidney. That is +the provoking part of it. He will not take offence. No matter what I +say, his face wears the same calm, imperturbable expression. You will +see he will be just as amiable to me to-morrow as if I had behaved like +an angel to him to-day."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>And it was so. Mr. Althorp's manner was as friendly as possible when he +appeared the next day. No one could have supposed that he had anything +to resent. He asked the girls to come out with him, and it was arranged +that they should go together to the Villa Mattei, and that Enid should +be left there to begin her sketch whilst Maud and Mr. Althorp went on +to visit some other places of interest.</p> + +<p>It was a bright warm February day. On such a day it was delightful +to pass along the shady secluded paths between tall hedges of box, +which gave to the warm air its subtle perfume, with here and there a +broken-nosed statue or a block of stone bearing a fine relief—relics +of the old Roman villa which once stood on this spot, and over the +ruins of which the present uninteresting modern mansion has been +raised. Already there were many tokens of spring. Large pink-tipped +daisies studded the rank grass, the sweet scent of violets betrayed +their presence in the borders, roses even were in bud, and the orange +trees growing on a sunny terrace beneath a sheltering wall were bowing +beneath a weight of golden fruit.</p> + +<p>They passed down an avenue of huge ilexes, with knotted branches +interlacing overhead and a thickness of foliage which afforded a grand +depth of shade, and gained a little stone temple commanding a fine +view of the Alban Hills, the old walls of the Baths of Caracalla, the +picturesque brown arches of the ancient aqueduct, and the Campagna +stretching far away marked by many a tomb till it melted in the pale +blue of the sky.</p> + +<p>Then they descended to the lower walk. Here springing from beneath the +wall was a picturesque old fountain, fringed with maidenhair fern, +dripping into a still green pool, about which grew luxuriantly the +large graceful leaves of the acanthus. This was said to be the true +Fountain of Egeria, where Numa Pompilius held mysterious intercourse +with the nymph. Enid had her doubts about its identification, but the +romantic beauty of the old fountain pleased her fancy, and she had set +her heart upon making a sketch of it.</p> + +<p>As soon as she had fairly settled to her work, Maud and Mr. Althorp +left her, promising to call at the villa for her on their return about +five o'clock.</p> + +<p>Enid had been working quietly for about a quarter of an hour when the +sound of a step made her raise her head. Julius Dakin stood beside her.</p> + +<p>"So you have carried out your intention," he said quietly, "and you +have come alone. I was afraid you meant to do so."</p> + +<p>"I did not come alone," said Enid. "Maud and Mr. Althorp came with me. +Did you not meet them?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "It is all the same," he remarked rather vaguely, +"since you are remaining here alone."</p> + +<p>Enid coloured. "I prefer to be alone," she said. "I cannot paint so +well when anyone is by me."</p> + +<p>"Does that mean that you wish me to retire?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to hurry you, of course," said Enid laughingly; "but you +do not suppose that I can paint with you looking over my shoulder all +the time?"</p> + +<p>"Will you give me that painting when it is finished?"</p> + +<p>"I make no rash promises," said Enid. "At its present rate of progress, +it does not seem likely ever to get finished."</p> + +<p>"But you know you owe me a painting?"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" said Enid. "I don't know how you make that true."</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten that you wantonly destroyed the painting you were +doing for me? There—I will not, revive a painful subject. But you will +let me have this? As it is now?"</p> + +<p>"You know I do not mean that."</p> + +<p>"Then please let me have a chance of finishing it. I must see what I +make of it before I think of giving it to anyone. Come, I am sure you +ought not to be wasting your time at the villa this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I am not wasting my time; duty brought me here this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Really!" Enid looked up at him with a laughing glance of surprise; but +something in the glance that met hers made her eyes drop suddenly. She +busied herself with her paint-box.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose I must take your hint," said Julies. "I will not +disturb you farther."</p> + +<p>He walked away without bidding her good-bye. Enid tried to give her +mind to her painting, but it was difficult. Her hands had grown +unsteady; she was vexed to find that she could not pursue her work as +calmly as before Julius Dakin appeared. But she persevered, though she +was ill-pleased with the result of her efforts. Seeing no more of him, +she concluded that he had gone away, and worked on with an easier mind.</p> + +<p>At last she paused, and sat back on her stool surveying her work. The +light was changing rapidly; it was impossible to do more to-day. Her +eyes wandered to the distant prospect. Shadows were stealing over the +mountains, the old red-brown ruins glowed in the sunset light. Enid +thought of the contrast between the mighty enduring mountains and the +ruined desolate works of man, which yet were so grand in their way—so +full of pathos and of beauty. Suddenly she started at a light touch.</p> + +<p>Someone had lifted the fur cape which lay beside her and placed it on +her shoulders. It was Julius Dakin.</p> + +<p>Enid started up greatly discomposed. Her tone was almost one of +annoyance as she said, "How you startled me! I had no idea you were +still here."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I startled you," he said. "I have not been far from you all +the time. I have been watching you from above. Now I have come to warn +you that it is growing damp and chill, and you must not sit here any +longer."</p> + +<p>"I had no intention of doing so," said Enid brusquely. "You need not +have troubled. I know how to take care of myself."</p> + +<p>The words were ungracious. She was ashamed of them as she uttered them.</p> + +<p>"Of course you do," he said gently. There was a pause, and then he +added, "Enid, let us understand each other. I cannot help thinking that +you do understand me; but let me tell you that your well-being is more +to me than anything else in the world, and I would guard you from all +harm for ever if I could."</p> + +<p>Enid paused in the work of gathering together her painting materials. +Her face had grown very white. She did not say a word.</p> + +<p>"Enid," he said again, his voice now scarcely above a whisper, "you +know what I mean. I love you: I want you to promise that some day you +will be my wife."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible," she replied, in quick, hurried tones.</p> + +<p>"Impossible?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it can never, never be."</p> + +<p>"You cannot love me?"</p> + +<p>Enid made no reply; but he thought he read in the agitated face the +confirmation of his fear.</p> + +<p>"I might have known," he said, much moved. "You think me unworthy, and +indeed I am not worthy. You see in me a selfish, useless, conceited +fellow, who has never done anything worth doing in all his life, and +who never will."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that," responded Enid tremulously; "you will make something +of your life yet."</p> + +<p>"With your help, I might do anything," he said quickly. "Enid, won't +you give me a little hope? I could—I 'would' make something good of my +life if I had you beside me. You don't know what influence a woman may +exert over the man who loves her."</p> + +<p>"You must do it without me," she said, in a low unsteady voice. "You +can if you like. You do not really need me. There are so many who care +for you."</p> + +<p>"As if that made any difference," he replied almost scornfully.</p> + +<p>Then as she made a quick gesture as if to stay his words, he asked +gravely—</p> + +<p>"Is it so indeed? Do you mean me to understand that it can never be?"</p> + +<p>"It can never be," she repeated.</p> + +<p>He said nothing more, but silently helped her to put her things +together.</p> + +<p>"I will go to the gate now," said Enid nervously. "Maud said that she +would call for me at five o'clock."</p> + +<p>"It is that now," he returned, looking at his watch. He took her +camp-stool and drawing-board, and they ascended the path to the higher +garden.</p> + +<p>Enid shivered as they passed into the gloom beneath the avenue of +ilexes. There seemed something ominous in the sudden change from bright +sunlight to deep shadow. Was it typical of the days before her? As they +emerged from the trees, she saw a carriage drive up to the gates, in +which were Maud and Mr. Althorp.</p> + +<p>Julius saw it too, and drew back into the shade.</p> + +<p>"Will you excuse me if I do not go further with you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Then she looked up and saw the trouble written on his face. She had +never thought to see him look so. Her heart was moved within her. She +could not speak, and they shook hands in silence. Then she went on in +blind haste towards the gate, and he turned back alone.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +AN UNLOOKED-FOR HONOUR<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"WHATEVER is the matter with you, Enid? You do nothing but sigh this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Did I sigh?" asked Enid, the colour suddenly rising in her face. "I +suppose it was because I was thinking of Adela."</p> + +<p>"You have heard nothing of her since she went away?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing whatever; and she promised she would write to me if she could. +It is a shame of them not to let her write."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for that, I suppose she is little better than a prisoner in +that convent. They will keep her there till she yields to her brother's +will."</p> + +<p>"Poor Adela! I hope she will not do that."</p> + +<p>"Why? She could hardly be more unhappy than she is now."</p> + +<p>"I think she would be more unhappy," said Enid with energy, "for +she would lose self-respect. Whatever she suffers now, she has the +satisfaction of knowing that she is true to the one she loves."</p> + +<p>"What a romantic little soul you are, Enid!" said her cousin, laughing. +"No man may hope to marry you unless he win your heart."</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"How decidedly you say it!" returned her cousin. "But you are right. +You and I are married to Art. We must not think of forsaking that. +But washing your brushes already! Are you not going to paint any more +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Enid, "my head aches—I think I will take a walk. I will go +to the shop in the Campo Marzio, and see if they have the paper we +ordered."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do!—That's a good idea," said Maud readily. "I am wanting that +paper so much."</p> + +<p>Since Enid parted from Julius Dakin at the Villa Mattei, two days +before, something seemed gone from her life. She felt no interest +in her painting. She could not give her thoughts to it; they dwelt +persistently upon all that had passed beside the world-famous Fountain +of Egeria. Memory repeated every word that had been uttered. She could +not banish from her mind the recollection of Julius Dakin's face as she +had last beheld it. It was with her continually.</p> + +<p>And all the while, she was nervously anxious to conceal from her cousin +her preoccupation. She would not for the world that Maud should know +anything of what had passed between her and Julius Dakin. The thought +of it was very bitter. When she recalled his face, so full of trouble, +she could not be sure that she had acted rightly. She hardly understood +the impulse which had led her to put from her so decidedly his love. +And yet when she thought of Maud, and of all that had gone before, she +said to herself that if it were to come over again, she would do the +same.</p> + +<p>It was true that she had been thinking of Adela when her cousin +spoke to her, for with her own unrest there had come to her a new +comprehension of what Adela must be suffering, and her heart had gone +out to her friend with a fuller sympathy than it had been possible for +her to feel before.</p> + +<p>"Enid!" Maud called after her cousin as she was leaving the studio. "I +think of going to Mrs. Dakin's about five o'clock. Will you be back in +time to go with me?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know; but I do not care to go to Mrs. Dakin's to-day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Maud carelessly, and Enid went on her way.</p> + +<p>She had done her errand and was returning home, when, passing the old +church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, she saw that the door was open, and +the thought of Guido Reni's grand altar-piece drew her within. The +church was empty save for a boy, who started up as she entered, and +hurried forward to unveil the painting. It was a bright afternoon, and +the light was good.</p> + +<p>Enid stood long gazing at the picture. It was not the first time she +had seen it; but she saw it now as she had not seen it before.</p> + +<p>The power of Guido's picture lies in its simplicity. No accessories are +introduced; no other form is there to divert for an instant the gaze of +the beholder from the Sublime Sufferer. Only the cross is seen standing +forth from a wild, stormy sky, and stretched on it in patient suffering +the dying Son of Man. The pathos of that form is beyond description. +As one gazes on it, one receives a vivid conception of the loneliness +of Christ. We look till the pallid suffering lips seem to move, and we +fancy that there escapes them the plaintive cry,—</p> + +<p>"My God! My God! why hast Thou forsaken Me?"</p> + +<p>It is a picture that the most thoughtless can hardly look upon without +being moved to reflection. Surely, as far as painter could ever hope to +succeed, Guido has succeeded in depicting the Crucifixion. Yet whilst +it is touched by his work, the Christian heart feels that it presents +but a faint image of the truth, and that the sublime reality defies +portrayal.</p> + +<p>The picture spoke to Enid as it had spoken to Miss Strutt. Not that +the message was the same, for each human life is distinct, and has its +hidden experiences, which differ from those of any other.</p> + +<p>"In your passage through this life remember the sufferings of Jesus +Christ," said Michael Angelo.</p> + +<p>In every phase of life it is good to remember Him but especially in our +sorrows is the remembrance helpful. Perhaps that is why our lives are +so chequered with shadow. It is so easy to forget, and live only for +oneself when life glides joyously on, and everything is to our mind.</p> + +<p>Ere Enid left the church, she had found strength to accept patiently +the cross in her present lot. She saw that it might be well to +have one's wishes thwarted, since the life that seeks only its own +happiness, even if that happiness be of an exalted kind, misses its +true end.</p> + +<p>Soon after Enid reached home, Maud came to her room. She still wore her +visiting dress.</p> + +<p>"You have soon come back from Mrs. Dakin's," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did not care to stay long. It was very stupid there this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>Enid made no remark. She felt sure that Maud had something to tell her, +and she waited for it.</p> + +<p>"What do you think Julius Dakin has done, Enid?"</p> + +<p>"You must tell me," said Enid, smiling rather nervously; "it is of no +use trying to guess."</p> + +<p>"He has gone to London on business; he started last night. Did you ever +hear of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have heard of such things," said Enid, conscious that she was +changing colour. "The claims of business are inexorable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course I know that. But Julius to go on business! It is absurd! +'Business connected with the bank,' Mrs. Dakin said. But she did not +deceive me. I am sure it is only an excuse."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that?"</p> + +<p>"Need you ask? Was Julius Dakin ever known to do anything he did not +want to do? Of course he has some motive for going off in that way."</p> + +<p>Enid was silent.</p> + +<p>"It is strange that he never said a word about it when last we saw him. +I could have declared that he had not the least intention of going +away."</p> + +<p>"There was no occasion to think of doing so then, perhaps." suggested +Enid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not believe in this pretence of business. I call it +exceedingly rude of him to go off in that way without bidding us +good-bye. When I see him again, I shall let him know what I think of +his conduct."</p> + +<p>"I do not think he meant to be rude," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't make excuses for him. I am disgusted with Julius Dakin," +said Maud, impatiently. "It is very tiresome. Now he is gone, and +Sidney Althorp too, we shall have no one to do anything for us."</p> + +<p>"Now is the time to show we can take care of ourselves, and are not +dependent on the services of others," said Enid.</p> + +<p>Maud shrugged her shoulders. Apparently the idea of independence was +not now agreeable to her.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next morning, Enid received a note informing her that the little +picture she had sent in for the "Belli Arti" Exhibition had been +accepted by the committee, and awarded a mark of distinction. She +had a letter also from Herr Schmitz, conveying his congratulations. +With it was enclosed a formal invitation to a "soirée," to be held in +connection with the opening of the Exhibition.</p> + +<p>Enid was naturally much pleased at her success; but her pleasure was +dashed as she saw the crestfallen air with which Maud received the +news. Her pictures too were hung, but they had received no mark of +distinction!</p> + +<p>"I am sure I am very pleased; I congratulate you, Enid," Maud said, in +rather a forced manner. "But of course this is Herr Schmitz's doing. It +is good to have a friend on the Hanging Committee."</p> + +<p>The blood rushed into Enid's face. Maud had dealt a sore blow to her +pride. She was deeply mortified, the more so that she felt the words +were unjust, for she was convinced that Herr Schmitz was the last man +to lend himself to anything like favouritism in deciding on the merits +of works of art. Happily, Enid was able to control her indignation, +and received her cousin's comment in absolute silence, which had a +discomfiting effect on Maud, who had felt ashamed of her words as she +uttered them.</p> + +<p>Maud too had received a card of invitation to the artists' "soirée," +but she seemed so annoyed at her cousin's success that Enid half feared +she would refuse to accompany her on this occasion. But the "soirée" +was a special affair of its kind, and Maud had a great desire to be +present, so she stifled her pride for once, and graciously condescended +to go with Enid.</p> + +<p>Herr Schmitz, in his note, had begged Enid to be at the gallery half +an hour before the time named on the card of invitation. Maud grumbled +at having to go so early, declared it was only a "fidget" of the old +painter's, and tried to persuade Enid to ignore his wish. But Enid, who +felt sure that Herr Schmitz had some reason for wishing her to be there +before the time of general assembly, was determined to accede to his +request.</p> + +<p>When the two girls therefore entered the gallery, they found but few +persons there, but these were chiefly members of the Hanging Committee +and artists of celebrity. Maud was elated at finding herself in their +company, nor did she fail to attract their attention. Her tall, willowy +form, clad in simple white, which set off exquisitely the heavy masses +of her superb Titian-golden hair, presented an appearance which could +not fail to please the eye of an artist.</p> + +<p>Those who had the honour of her acquaintance came eagerly to greet her; +for whatever might be their opinion of the merits of her painting, +Miss Marian's artist friends found herself wholly satisfactory. A +gentleman who, a few moments before, had been severely criticising one +of her pictures, and declaring that, had it been painted by anyone save +Miss Marian, it would certainly have been rejected, now felt himself +constrained to offer her some words of congratulation. One and another +artist begged to be presented to her, so that Maud enjoyed a certain +triumph, which perhaps compensated her for the cool reception afforded +to her pictures.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Enid, the appearance of whose small, compact figure in +its neat, close-fitting black silk, did not invite attention, had +leisure to look about her. Her eyes sought Herr Schmitz, but failed +to discern him. Presently, however, a door at the further end of the +gallery opened, and Herr Schmitz appeared, conducting two ladies +and a gentleman in military uniform. Enid gave one long stare of +astonishment, and then plucked her cousin by the sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Look, look! Maud," she whispered excitedly; "there is the Queen. Herr +Schmitz is showing the pictures to the Queen!"</p> + +<p>"Never!" ejaculated Maud; but a glance showed her that her cousin was +not mistaken.</p> + +<p>Queen Margherita, smiling, gracious, charming as ever, was advancing +slowly down the long gallery, pausing now before this picture, now +before that, and listening with an air of deep interest to what Herr +Schmitz had to say about them.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare!" said Maud. "Herr Schmitz is highly honoured, though +I suppose he would not own it for the world, for he is a frightful +democrat."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I have heard him say that if all kings and queens were like +the King and Queen of Italy, he should think better of them," returned +Enid.</p> + +<p>"Look, look!" Maud interrupted her. "Is not that your picture they are +looking at now? I do believe the Queen is remarking on it."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be," said Enid breathlessly, her heart beating fast at the +mere idea.</p> + +<p>But now the Queen was approaching the place where they stood. People +were drawing together, and preparing to salute her in their best +manner. Herr Schmitz darted a quick glance round. His eyes fell on +Enid, and he advanced rapidly to her side.</p> + +<p>"The Queen wishes me to present you to her," he said.</p> + +<p>He took her hand as he spoke, and ere Enid could recover from her +amazement, or at all realise the situation, she found herself +curtseying low before the sovereign lady, who gave her her hand, saying +graciously, in perfect English, with one of her radiant smiles—</p> + +<p>"Your little picture pleases me very much. You are fond of painting +flowers, are you not?"</p> + +<p>In what words she replied, or how she deported herself, Enid had +afterwards not the faintest idea.</p> + +<p>The Queen expressed some kind wishes for her future success, and then +her eyes rested with an air of interest on Maud.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she too saw something ideal in the girl's style and grace. +She said a few words in a low tone to Herr Schmitz. Miss Marian was +no favourite with the old painter, but he had a generous impulse with +regard to her at that moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, in answer to the Queen's question, "that lady also is +an aspiring young artist."</p> + +<p>And he signed to Maud to advance, and she too was presented to her +Majesty.</p> + +<p>"There! What do you say now?" Enid asked her cousin, when the Queen had +gone by. "Are you not glad I brought you here so early?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I am delighted. I never thought to meet the Queen in so +informal a manner. Did I make a proper curtsey?"</p> + +<p>"Your dignity was perfect. You did not seem in the least discomposed. +As for me, I was trembling all over."</p> + +<p>"You did not show it. After all, Enid, you had the greatest honour. It +was your picture the Queen noticed; she did not look at mine."</p> + +<p>"You cannot know that," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"I do know it, though," said Maud, with a sudden painful perception of +the truth. "It is you who are the artist, not I, Enid. I only play at +Art, whilst you work."</p> + +<p>Happily, the approach of a friend rendered it unnecessary for Enid to +reply to these words. The Queen and her companions had departed, and +the general company was beginning to arrive. But for the girls, the +best part of the evening was over, though they derived a secondary +pleasure from discussing with their acquaintances its grand event.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +VARIOUS THREADS OF ROMANCE<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ON the following afternoon, Enid went to Miss Strutt's studio, for she +knew that her friend, whom she had not seen at the "soirée" on the +previous evening, would be interested in hearing what she could tell +her about it. But Miss Strutt's door was locked. It was evident that +the artist had gone out, though it was earlier than the hour at which +she usually left off work.</p> + +<p>So Enid went back to the Studio Mariano feeling disappointed, for she +had looked forward to a chat with Miss Strutt.</p> + +<p>She had that pleasure, however, on the next day. Miss Strutt welcomed +her warmly, and at once began to express congratulations in playful +fashion.</p> + +<p>"So your picture attracted the royal notice! You were presented to the +Queen! How we are coming on! Really, I almost wonder that after such an +honour you can condescend to visit a poor old maid like me!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Strutt, I will not have that!" cried Enid. "It does not +become you to be satirical. Let me inform you that I came to see you +yesterday afternoon, but you were out. I wanted to tell you the news +myself; but it seems someone has forestalled me."</p> + +<p>"It was Herr Schmitz," said Miss Strutt. "I met him yesterday +afternoon, and he asked eagerly if I had heard of your success. He was +delighted with the honour done to his pupil."</p> + +<p>"I believe I owe it in a great measure to him," replied Enid. "But why +were not you at the 'soirée' last evening? All the other exhibitors +were there!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, need you ask? I thought you knew that I never go into +company."</p> + +<p>"I know you dislike general company," said Enid; "but I thought on such +an occasion as this—"</p> + +<p>"You thought the idea of meeting so many of my fellow artists +ought to attract me? I must confess that their society has little +more attraction for me than that of other people. Do not look so +reproachfully at me, my little Enid. You do not know artists as well +as I do. You do not know what bitterness, jealousy, and petty feelings +of various kinds are hidden under the surface cordiality they maintain +towards each other. You look incredulous, but it is true. Tell me, have +you ever heard a painter warmly praise the work of one of his brethren +of the brush?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—at least I have heard one praise the work of a sister artist," +said Enid, with a smile. "Herr Schmitz speaks most highly of your work."</p> + +<p>The colour rose quickly in the old maid's faded cheek. "Ah, that is +different," she said. "Herr Schmitz and I are friends, and he is very +good to his friends. Besides, I owe much to his advice and teaching, +so that he looks upon me almost as a pupil. And you know he does +not withhold encouragement from his pupils if he sees they are in +earnest. But Herr Schmitz has the character of being most severe in his +criticisms of the work of his fellow artists."</p> + +<p>Enid remembered that Julius Dakin had said the same of him.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" she said with a sigh. "How disappointing human nature is! If +ever I fancy I have found a hero, someone immediately shows me he is +not flawless."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect to find a hero without a flaw?" asked Miss Strutt. "But +there! That is always the way with young people like you. It is of no +use to tell them they will not find perfection; they always want those +they love and believe in to be perfect, and are impatient of everything +that mars their ideal conception of them. But as we grow older, we +learn to make allowance for human nature; we see that in every human +life there is much which, as Browning expresses it, the 'world's coarse +thumb and finger' fails to 'plumb,' and we think less of the 'flaws and +warpings' of the stuff, so long as the aim of the life be true, for we +know that God will yet mould it into conformity to His will. The world +has never seen and will never see but one Life absolutely without flaw, +and that was more than human."</p> + +<p>Enid was silent. It caused her some wonder to hear Miss Strutt, +who always shrank from the society of her fellow mortals, speak so +tolerantly of human weaknesses.</p> + +<p>"Well, Enid," said Miss Strutt the next minute, with an abrupt change +of manner, "if I stayed away from the 'soirée,' I was not uninterested +in the pictures. I never attempt to look at pictures in the midst of +a crowd, so I went to the Exhibition early yesterday morning before +anyone was there. I wanted to see how they had hung your little +painting."</p> + +<p>"'My' picture only?" said Enid. "Had you no anxiety with respect to the +hanging of your own?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; I will not pretend that I was indifferent to the fate of +my own. But it is generally disappointing to see them. They never look +quite as they did in your own studio."</p> + +<p>"No, that is true," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"However, you cannot complain," said Miss Strutt. "Your picture is +hung in a good position, and looks very well. You are fortunate in its +finding a purchaser at once."</p> + +<p>"A purchaser! What do you mean?" asked Enid in a tone of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Surely you know that your picture is sold?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; it is news to me! Are you sure you are not mistaken? Who +told you so?"</p> + +<p>"The secretary. I was looking over the catalogue with him."</p> + +<p>"Do you know who has bought it?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Julius Dakin."</p> + +<p>Enid's face flushed a deep crimson; but the colour receded as rapidly +as it rose, and left her unusually pale. Miss Strutt, watching her, +wondered at the effect of her words.</p> + +<p>"My dear, it cannot surprise you that Mr. Dakin should buy your +picture."</p> + +<p>"But he has gone away," faltered Enid.</p> + +<p>"Well, what of that? Do you not suppose he could have commissioned +someone to buy the picture for him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; but—" Enid's face looked strangely troubled.</p> + +<p>Miss Strutt was silent for some minutes, but her mind was busy. She +was a shrewd observer, this quiet little woman, and having a "mind at +leisure from itself," she could read the hearts of others. She had had +various opportunities of observing Enid and Julius Dakin both together +and apart, and she had drawn a certain inference from her observation +of them. But the turn events had recently taken puzzled her.</p> + +<p>"Why has Mr. Julius Dakin gone away so suddenly?" she asked with some +abruptness.</p> + +<p>"He has gone on business," Enid replied, her colour rising again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, on business, of course;" but Miss Strutt's manner showed +that she had little belief in the business. "Enid, have you had +anything to do with his going away? You have not suffered yourself to +be misled by your desire for a flawless hero?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, indeed—" Enid began to protest, but paused in confusion.</p> + +<p>"There is the making of a hero in Julius Dakin," Miss Strutt went on +without heeding her. "He has been spoiled by too easy a life; but if I +mistake not, there are sterling qualities in his character. You must +forgive me. Enid, if I say what I should not, but I have seen—I cannot +help fancying—"</p> + +<p>"Please don't speak of it," broke in Enid nervously. "I know what you +mean—but you are mistaken—indeed you are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Am I really mistaken? Was it only a dream that I had when I thought I +saw a great happiness coming to you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," faltered Enid, in evident distress. "It was just that—a +dream—what you think can never be, never!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must take your word for it," said Miss Strutt, looking +perplexed; "but I wish I could be sure that you are acting fairly by +yourself. I wish you could confide in me, Enid, and tell me all that +troubles you."</p> + +<p>"I could not—there is nothing to tell," said Enid in sore +embarrassment. "At least you would not understand."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Miss Strutt. "Perhaps I understand more +than you think." But she did not try to force the girl's confidence.</p> + +<p>They talked of other things; but there was a kindness, a sympathy in +Miss Strutt's manner towards Enid as long as they remained together, of +which Enid was gratefully conscious.</p> + +<p>"How can you like to spend so much time with that old maid?" Maud asked +rather scornfully, when she returned to the studio.</p> + +<p>"I like to do so because she is such good company," replied Enid with a +smile.</p> + +<p>Maud looked amazed, but said no more.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>It happened the next day, when Enid was with Herr Schmitz in his +studio, that he began talking about Miss Strutt, with whose pictures in +the Exhibition he was very pleased.</p> + +<p>"She is a good artist and a good woman," he said emphatically. "I +cannot give her higher praise than that."</p> + +<p>"She deserves it," said Enid; "she is truly good. I wish she led a +happier life."</p> + +<p>The old painter turned and looked shrewdly at Enid. "Does she ever +complain?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Enid; "you know that is not her way. But I know +she has had great sorrows, and her life seems to me a hard one."</p> + +<p>"Ah! She has told you of her troubles, then?"</p> + +<p>"She has told me about her brother," said Enid, with, some hesitation. +"That seems to me a terrible thing."</p> + +<p>"Ah! It is—it was, a terrible thing," said Herr Schmitz, with feeling. +"I heard all about it from a friend of mine, a Scotch artist, who knew +the Strutts well and was acquainted with all the circumstances of the +case. Did she never tell you the rest of the story?"</p> + +<p>"The rest!" said Enid in surprise. "I don't know what you mean. Her +brother remains the same—there is no hope of his recovery."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was not thinking of him. Well, it was like her to keep back what +most concerned herself. But there is no harm in my telling you. She +was engaged to be married. The man was a poor creature, quite unworthy +of her; but of course she loved him devotedly. When that terrible +affair happened, and her brother had to be sent away, the man took +fright—thought he must not marry into a family tainted by insanity. She +saw how he felt, and at once released him. That was all; but you will +understand what it meant for her."</p> + +<p>Enid did understand.</p> + +<p>"She could never see that the man was selfish and heartless," continued +Herr Schmitz. "She thought him justified in what he did. And of course, +he married someone else; and she—well, you see what her life is. The +worst of it is, when a woman such as she is gives her heart away, she +gives it once and for ever. It is of no use for any other man to think +how he might care for her."</p> + +<p>A thought darted quickly into Enid's mind. It must be remembered that +she was of a romantic disposition. It occurred to her that Herr Schmitz +was a lonely man; his kindred, if he had any, were far away. Would it +be strange if his heart went out towards the poor little woman who had +known so many sorrows? But Enid was half ashamed of the thought as it +arose, and she would not for the world have confided it to her cousin. +She fancied she could hear how Maud would laugh at the idea of the +rough, bearish old Herr having any tender feeling for the odd little +spinster, whose eccentricities would never fail to excite Maud's sense +of the ridiculous, though she had learned to respect Miss Strutt's +sterling character.</p> + +<p>If Enid's experiences of late had been of a sobering nature, disposing +her to dwell on the disappointments of human life, she was about to see +a brighter aspect of affairs. Clouds may darken our life for awhile, +but they do not last for ever, nor is even the course of true love +destined to be perpetually impeded, as Enid was soon to learn.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Three days had passed since the opening of the exhibition of paintings, +and they had been to Enid rather dreary days, when one afternoon, as +she was working alone in the studio, Maud having gone out to pay calls, +there came a tap at the door.</p> + +<p>Enid went to the door expecting nothing more exciting than to see the +porter with a letter or parcel. What was her amazement and delight when +she saw standing on the threshold Adela Ravani, with the prettiest, +brightest, happiest face imaginable! But she had little time to study +the expression of her friend's face, for in a moment Adela had thrown +herself into her arms, and was half smothering her with kisses.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you dear, darling Enid, how glad I am to see you again! And I +thought I never should! Oh, to think of it!—To think of it!"</p> + +<p>"Then they have not made a nun of you, Adela?" said Enid, as soon as +she could speak.</p> + +<p>"A nun! I should think not, indeed! No, no; I am free—free! And yet +Francesco has not made me bend to his will! It seems too wonderful to +be true."</p> + +<p>"Then it has all come right after all. Oh, I 'am' glad! But sit down. +Adela, and tell me about it. I can hardly believe that I really see you +again. I have thought of you so often, and felt so unhappy about you."</p> + +<p>"And I have been unhappy—'so' unhappy. But it is all over now, thank +God! And I am as happy as possible. I know, Enid, that I owe it all to +you, and I must thank you before I say another word."</p> + +<p>"Thank me!" exclaimed Enid in the utmost astonishment. "My dear Adela, +what can I have had to do with it? I knew nothing of your happiness +till I saw you, and I am still quite in the dark as to how it has come +about."</p> + +<p>"That may be; but I know very well that it is for your sake that Mr. +Julius Dakin has exerted himself so much on our behalf. You need not +blush and protest, Enid, for I know it is so."</p> + +<p>"But what has Mr. Julius Dakin done?"</p> + +<p>"He has done everything," said Adela eagerly. "It seems that Signor +Torlono, Lucio's uncle, was in Rome, on business a few weeks ago, and +he dined at the Dakins; and they spoke to him of Lucio—told him how +clever he was, and how highly everyone praised his pictures. They saw +he was interested, although he pretended to be indifferent, and they +tried to work on his feelings. They tried to persuade him to see Lucio, +but there they failed.</p> + +<p>"However, I suppose he went back to Florence rather better disposed +towards his nephew. Mr. Julius Dakin would not let the matter rest. +He kept sending him notices of Lucio's paintings, in newspapers and +journals, you know.</p> + +<p>"Then last week, when Mr. Julius Dakin started for London, he persuaded +Lucio to go with him to Florence, and they stayed there a day. Mr. +Dakin went to see Signor Torlono, who appeared very pleased to see +him. And of course, he introduced the subject of Signor Torlono's +nephew, and talked and talked and talked about Lucio—how good he was, +and how clever, and how affectionate; and then, when Signor Torlono +seemed properly affected, he informed him that his nephew was there at +Florence about to pass the night at an hotel. By that time, the uncle's +hard heart was quite melted, and he sent for Lucio and forgave him, and +he is to be his heir after all; and—and everything has come right, just +like a story-book."</p> + +<p>"And there is no longer any hindrance to your marriage?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Adela, blushing in the prettiest manner. "Only fancy! Mr. +Julius Dakin actually told the old uncle all about me, and made him +quite interested in me too! I don't know how he managed it, but he has +such clever, nice ways, has Mr. Julius Dakin. Do you not think so?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what I think," said Enid, catching the mischievous gleam in +Adela's eyes. "What does Francesco say to it all?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is willing enough now, I can assure you. The heir of Signor +Torlono, the rich banker of Florence, is a grand match for me. And I +need not tell you how pleased mamma is. Lucio says she must live with +us, and I should like it so much; but she will not promise to do so +always."</p> + +<p>"And when is the wedding to be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, soon—in April, I believe," said Adela, blushing and dimpling in +the most charming way.</p> + +<p>Enid had always greatly admired her friend's beauty, but it seemed to +her that now, radiant as she was with happiness, Adela was more lovely +than ever.</p> + +<p>"Enid, you must not think of leaving Rome till after April. I want you +to be at my wedding."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I should love dearly to see you married, but my movements +of course depend on Maud. I do not know how long she intends to stay +here; and indeed I think she ought to return home before the end of +April."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not say that!" cried Adela.</p> + +<p>Adela had been absent from Rome for two months. After such a +separation, it may be imagined that the girls had much to tell each +other. Enid asked many questions concerning Adela's experience in the +lonely convent to which she had been banished.</p> + +<p>Adela said the time had seemed very long. She had been allowed to +receive no letters, and had heard no news of the outer world; but the +good sisters had been very kind to her. It had been a relief when her +brother appeared and took her away; but she had not dared to hope for +any permanent good.</p> + +<p>But when she saw her mother's face, she knew that she had joyful news +for her, and from her she learned how Lucio's prospects had changed, +and that his suit was now accepted.</p> + +<p>Naturally Adela's mind was full of her own happiness, and it was +discussed from every point of view. Yet she was not so absorbed in +herself as to be unobservant of her friend.</p> + +<p>"Enid," she exclaimed, after a while, "you have changed, whilst I have +been away! Are you sure you are well?"</p> + +<p>"Quite well," said Enid decidedly.</p> + +<p>"But you do not look so; you are certainly paler and thinner than you +were. Have you had anything to trouble you?"</p> + +<p>"What could trouble me here in Rome—the most fascinating, delightful +city in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then you are still in love with Rome? I suppose you have been +doing too much, for you certainly do not look as you did when I went +away."</p> + +<p>Enid was glad to quit the subject of her looks.</p> + +<p>When at last, after some further talk, Adela took her departure, she +left Enid looking brighter than she had looked for days. She was +delighted that Adela had come back, and delighted with the news she +had brought. It was easy to conceive how it had all come about. Her +imagination dwelt on the picture suggested by Adela's words. She could +see Julius Dakin talking to the old banker; she could hear his very +tones as he gently insinuated, suggested, persuaded in the winning +manner peculiar to him. Yes, Adela was right; he had clever, nice ways. +No one had just such ways as he had. Enid could not wonder that the old +man had been won over by him.</p> + +<p>And Adela had declared that it was for "her"—Enid's—sake that he had +taken such pains to bring about this reconciliation. The thought was +dear to Enid. A voice in her heart echoed back an assurance that it was +even so. For her sake, he had been anxious to succeed, that he might +give her gladness through the happiness of her friend.</p> + +<p>Certainly if Julius Dakin could have seen Enid's face at this hour, he +would have had his reward. The immediate effect of Adela's visit was to +fill Enid's heart for a brief while with a rapture of delight.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +MAUD RECEIVES STARTLING NEWS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE weeks passed rapidly by. The cold "tramontana" had ceased to blow, +and spring was advancing with swift strides. The flower vendors in the +Piazza di Spagna offered to the passerby huge bouquets of violets, and +their baskets were gay with the loveliest daffodils, narcissi, and +anemones. Those who preferred to pick flowers for themselves found them +in rich profusion at the rural villas or in some of the greener spots +of the Campagna.</p> + +<p>Now was the time to make excursions to the lovely country places about +Rome. The girls were often invited to join friends who were bound on +such pleasure trips, and they could seldom resist the temptation. +The work in the Studio Mariano flagged in consequence. Indeed, it +came to look rather a deserted place, for what painting the girls did +during the bright warm days was done out of doors. Maud had begun to +sketch some of the old arches on the Palatine Hill; Enid was painting +some flowers in the garden of the Villa Medici. Maud was continually +planning fresh pictures; but, meanwhile, the work she had in hand did +not progress very fast.</p> + +<p>Enid wondered sometimes when her cousin intended to return home. +Enid's letters from home were beginning to convey hints that the +winter was almost over, even in England, so it was to be expected that +she would soon return. But Maud never spoke of their return save as +of an event still distant. She must do this; she must do that. There +were numberless plans to be accomplished ere she could think of going +home. It was evident that Sidney Althorp's persuasions had failed to +influence her, unless, indeed, they had exercised an influence adverse +to his wish, and inclined her to persist in her own way—a result which +Enid, knowing the strength of her cousin's self-will, thought not +improbable. Enid rather wondered at the patience Mr. Marian manifested. +She had heard nothing lately of his making any efforts to hasten his +daughter's return.</p> + +<p>April had begun, when one morning, as the girls were about to start for +the studio, the English letters arrived at their "pension." There were +two for Maud and one for Enid.</p> + +<p>"We had better take them with us and read them at the studio," said +Maud. She ran down the stairs with the letters in her hand. "One from +father and one from Aunt Helen," she said. "I expect they have both +written to urge me to come home. It is wonderful that father has left +me in peace so long. I really must think of returning in a week or two. +Oh dear! I wish the thought of London were not so distasteful!"</p> + +<p>Arrived at the studio, Maud threw herself into a chair and opened her +father's letter.</p> + +<p>Enid sat down also to read hers. It was from her sister Alice—a long, +bright letter, detailing all the little incidents of their home life, +which she knew would not fail to interest Enid. She was soon absorbed +in it. The dear old home seemed so near to her as she read Alice's +words. How she yearned to be back there again! But she would be soon. +Had not Maud but just now said that she must think of returning in a +week or two? As the thought came to Enid, making her heart bound with +delight, she was startled by an exclamation from her cousin. She looked +up. What had happened to Maud?</p> + +<p>She had sprung from her seat, and stood with clenched hands before her +cousin, her face strangely agitated, a spot of deep crimson burning +in each cheek, her eyes aglow with passion. The letter she had been +reading lay on the floor at her feet.</p> + +<p>"Why, Maud," cried Enid, "whatever is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"It is shameful—abominable!" exclaimed Maud, in a tone choked with +passion. "I could never have believed it!"</p> + +<p>"But what?" asked Enid, growing alarmed. "What is it you could not have +believed? Do tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I feel as if I could not speak of it," said Maud excitedly. "I +could never have thought it possible for father to do such a thing."</p> + +<p>It seemed vain to ask what Mr. Marian had done to cause his daughter +such agitation. Maud was far too excited to explain. Enid waited in +great perplexity, whilst Maud paced to and fro, muttering angrily to +herself.</p> + +<p>At last, she threw herself again into her chair, exclaiming, "It is too +bad of him! I do not deserve such treatment at his hands!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Enid again ventured to ask. "Does your father wish you to +go home at once?"</p> + +<p>"I believe he does," replied Maud, with inexpressible scorn in her +tones. "I believe he does express such a wish; but I shall not go. +Nothing shall induce me to go home now."</p> + +<p>Enid looked utterly bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Cannot you understand, Enid?" said Maud impatiently, forgetting that +she had as yet given her cousin no explanation. "My father has written +to tell me that he is about to be married. Do you suppose that I can +any longer regard his house as my home?"</p> + +<p>Enid was startled at the news. It was easy now to understand the +excitement Maud manifested. Enid could realise in a moment all that the +news meant for her proud, high-spirited cousin. She was silent from +very sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Is it not dreadful?" Maud asked, with a quiver in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it will not be so bad as you think," said Enid, with some +hesitation. "Perhaps when you know the lady your father is going to +marry, you will like her."</p> + +<p>"But it is as bad as it can be!" exclaimed Maud. "I do know the lady, +and it is impossible I can like her! My father could not have chosen +anyone less congenial to me."</p> + +<p>"Really! How is it you cannot like her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can one explain such things?" exclaimed Maud impatiently. "I +tell you she is thoroughly antipathetic to me. She is a woman without +style or culture or any knowledge of the world—quite a vulgar sort +of person, in fact. I doubt if she can even aspirate her h's. How my +father could think of marrying her, I cannot imagine! I never liked +her, but she was a friend of Aunt Helen."</p> + +<p>"Then surely she must have some good qualities," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"I never saw them. I could not understand the attraction she had for +Aunt Helen. And now my father—Well, he has chosen between her and me, +for I will never live with her."</p> + +<p>"Do not say that," interposed Enid.</p> + +<p>"But I do say it, and I mean it. Do you think I will brook having that +woman set over me? No, indeed! My father must give me an allowance, +and I will live here in Italy. We can go to the mountains for the hot +weather. I will never go back to live with a stepmother."</p> + +<p>Enid felt some dismay at this unexpected prospect of a prolonged stay +in Italy.</p> + +<p>"Don't be in such a hurry to say what you will do and what you will +not," she replied. "You will feel differently perhaps when you have +thought it all over. Did you not have another letter? What does that +say?"</p> + +<p>"It is from Aunt Helen. I know well the kind of letter it is," said +Maud, disdainfully.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless she took up the letter, opened it, and read it, uttering +from time to time sundry scornful exclamations as she did so.</p> + +<p>"It is as I thought," she said, as she threw the letter down. "Aunt +Helen begs me to take a dispassionate view of the case. She hopes +I will consider how lonely my father has been, and how this union +will increase his happiness, while at the same time it will leave me +perfectly free to come and go as I like. As if I were not free before! +Only, of course—"</p> + +<p>Maud checked herself abruptly. A thought had come to her which was too +bitter to pursue.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will be free!" she exclaimed suddenly. "They shall see that +I mean to do exactly as I like. My father actually suggests that I +should come home before the wedding takes place. As if I would do such +a thing! No; I am of age, and I will demand to have an allowance and to +live where I like! Surely you think I am justified in doing so, Enid?"</p> + +<p>Enid's face wore a troubled look. She did not immediately reply.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not speak?" asked her cousin, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Because I cannot feel that you are right," said Enid, gravely. "I know +this is a very painful surprise to you, and it is natural you should +not like it; but your father is your father, and you have a duty to +him."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be my duty to go home. He does not need me now," said Maud.</p> + +<p>"Does he say so?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. He wants me to go home very soon. He pretends to think +that this change will increase my happiness."</p> + +<p>"Then he will be very hurt if you refuse to go. He has been a good +father to you, Maud—he has indulged you in every way. I think he +deserves that you should consider his wishes."</p> + +<p>"I do not see that. He cannot really care much about me or he would not +think of marrying, for he must know how distasteful the idea would be +to me."</p> + +<p>"But think how lonely he has been! One can really hardly wonder that +this has come about."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Enid!" cried Maud, in a tone of annoyance. "That is as bad as +telling me it is my own fault. Sidney Althorp would say it was. I know +now what he meant when he hinted that if I did not go home soon, I +should live to regret it. But I never thought of anything like this."</p> + +<p>Enid felt that it was useless to say more. It was impossible that Maud +could yet be persuaded to view the situation in any light save that +in which it had at first presented itself to her. Discussion would +only irritate her. So Enid listened quietly to her cousin's passionate +protestations, till gradually Maud's excitement subsided, and she grew +silent, whilst her miserable looks showed that her mind was dwelling +gloomily on the news which had so changed the aspect of her future.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The days which followed were trying ones for Enid. Maud regained +command of herself, and did not again express passionate anger with her +father, but it was evident that her mind cherished a sense of bitter +grievance, and she looked so unhappy that Enid felt the utmost pity for +her. Nothing now was said about their returning to England, and Enid +had to write to her parents and sisters that they must not expect to +see her yet.</p> + +<p>How Maud replied to her father's letter Enid never knew. After that +first irrepressible revelation of her feelings with regard to her +father's marriage, she seemed unwilling to talk about it. She even +made a pretence of not caring much, and of devoting herself with +renewed ardour to her art. But it was a sorry pretence. Her work did +not succeed. She would begin a sketch, and then presently tear it up +in disgust, and plan some other picture. Nothing pleased her long. Now +she would go out into the Campagna to paint, and now spend hours in +damp, cold churches making sketches of picturesque old architecture. +It was vain to urge her to be careful of her health. She seemed quite +reckless with regard to herself; and if Enid attempted to utter a +word of warning, it had the effect of driving Maud to commit greater +imprudences.</p> + +<p>"What is the good of making a fuss, Enid?" she would say. "You know +nothing ever hurts me; I am never ill. And if I were, it would not +matter now. I am sure I do not care what becomes of me, and nobody else +cares."</p> + +<p>"That is not true," said her cousin. "I hope you will never lose your +health; but if you were so unfortunate, you would find that you did +care about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course I should not like to be ill," said Maud, impatiently. "I +wish you would not always take everything so literally, Enid. That +is the worst of you; your ideas are always so proper. For my part, +I dislike people who have correct copy-book sentiments for every +occasion."</p> + +<p>"Really! I did not think I was like that," said Enid, laughing. "I am +afraid my mind is not so orderly as a copy-book."</p> + +<p>Enid found herself called upon to exercise much patience, for Maud +grew increasingly irritable, and it was often hard to bear with her +perversity. Enid was not naturally of a patient disposition, so this +experience was good for her. Her heart had its own burdens, which it +could share with no one. She was beginning to long rather wearily to be +at home again with the loved mother who understood her so well, but the +time still seemed distant.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, she was enjoying the golden sunlight, the blue skies, the +fresh young beauty of the foliage, the wealth of flowers of her first +spring in Rome. Growing familiarity did not diminish the fascination +which the grand old city had for her. Rather the spell grew stronger; +and, whilst her heart turned fondly towards home, Enid could not look +forward to leaving the narrow tortuous streets, the old brown walls, +the solemn ruins, the ancient buildings of Rome, without feeling that +they had grown very dear to her, and that it would be hard to say +"Good-bye" to them.</p> + +<p>Though cross and gloomy when with her cousin only, Maud showed no loss +of spirits when in company. Indeed, her gaiety was quite remarkable, +and her acquaintance found her society more entertaining than ever, +for her conversation was now marked by a daring recklessness of speech +which by many persons is mistaken for cleverness. Miss Amory was still +Mrs. Dakin's guest; but both ladies talked of going to London to pass +the months of May and June. Julius Dakin was still there. The business +which had taken him to England apparently demanded time, for nothing +was said of his returning to Rome.</p> + +<p>"Of course he will stay for the season, now he is there," said Maud +one day to her cousin. "He will enjoy escorting Miss Amory to all the +fashionable entertainments. I dare say she will make quite a sensation +in society. American beauties are all the rage in London now."</p> + +<p>And a shadow fell upon Maud's face. The conception was not agreeable to +her mind.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Nothing more had been said about Mr. Marian's wedding. Enid had no +idea when it was to take place. A month passed. The spring was at +its height, and Rome full of visitors, when one morning the post +brought Enid a newspaper from home. As she opened it, she saw that +an announcement in the matrimonial column was scored with red ink. +The name of "Marian" caught her eye. The brief notice published the +fact that Maud's father had been married on the fifteenth of the +month—nearly a week ago.</p> + +<p>Did Maud know? Enid shrank from speaking to her on the subject, and +yet felt that she ought perhaps to show her the notice. After some +hesitation, she placed the newspaper before Maud as she sat writing a +note, and said, as she pointed to the lines—</p> + +<p>"Here is something that concerns you, Maud. But I suppose you are +already aware of it."</p> + +<p>Maud glanced at the announcement, and her face grew white; but she only +said, "Yes. I knew it," and pushed the paper aside.</p> + +<p>She finished her note, rang for the portress to send it to its +destination, and then said to her cousin—</p> + +<p>"I have said that we will go to the Colosseum this evening with Miss +Amory and her friends. I took it for granted that you would go with me. +Was I right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall like to go," said Enid. "The moonlight was lovely last +night." Then, as she glanced at her cousin's face, she was struck with +its unusual pallor, and added hastily, "But are you sure you are fit to +go, Maud? You do not look well this morning."</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly well," said Maud, coldly. "I wish you would not always +be fancying things about me, Enid."</p> + +<p>She settled herself with a business-like air to her painting, and for +some time the girls worked in silence. But Enid was quietly watching +her cousin, and she saw that her work made little real progress. Every +now and then Maud would sigh or utter an impatient exclamation. At +last, she threw down her brushes.</p> + +<p>"I cannot get on with this," she said. "I will leave it and begin +something else. This room is very close; I shall go into the garden. I +want to make a sketch of the old fountain, with some pigeons settling +on it, if I can persuade them to come."</p> + +<p>"Put some food for them, and they will come."</p> + +<p>"But I want to paint them in the act of drinking, not eating. However, +I suppose I must manage as best I can. I cannot expect them to pose +like human beings."</p> + +<p>"And they are tiresome enough sometimes. Do you remember the trouble we +had with Lorenzo?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, the little urchin! He was as restless as any pigeon. +Well, I'll go and make a beginning."</p> + +<p>Maud spent the rest of her working hours in the garden. She professed +to be greatly interested in the sketch which she began, but it did not +make much progress. Enid suspected that her cousin preferred to work in +the garden that she might be alone, and under no restraint. The sense +of Enid's presence, and the thought that conversation was expected of +her, might be irksome to her in her present mood.</p> + +<p>It was near sunset, and Maud still lingered in the garden. Enid, having +laid aside her own work, went out to look at her cousin's. The garden, +with its high walls and heavy foliage, was sunless now, and the air +struck chill.</p> + +<p>"Have you finished, Maud?" asked Enid. "It is growing cold and damp; +you should not remain here longer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Enid, do you see that red light on the wall, and the sunlight +just glinting through those leaves above the fountain? I must get that +effect."</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile you may be catching cold. It is really not safe to sit +here longer."</p> + +<p>"I do not care if I do catch cold!" said Maud, perversely. "I wish you +would not fuss about me so! I shall not come in till I have done what I +want to do!"</p> + +<p>It was vain to remonstrate with her. Enid ran back to the studio and +fetched a shawl, which she threw over Maud's shoulders. Her kindness +was ill-received, for Maud at once shook off the shawl, saying +impatiently—</p> + +<p>"How can I paint with that thing dangling over my arms? I wish you +would leave me alone, Enid."</p> + +<p>So Enid left her alone, and, from sheer perversity, Maud remained in +the garden even after it had grown too dark to paint. She was shivering +when she came in; but Enid, venturing to suggest that she should take +some camphor or quinine, was immediately snubbed.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is right that a doctor's daughter should believe in +drugs," Maud said; "but I do not approve of dosing myself with them on +every occasion, so please do not expect me to do so."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>At dinner, it was evident that Maud had no appetite, and she owned to +Signora Grassi that her head ached. But she was not to be persuaded to +give up going to the Colosseum. When they joined their friends, she +shook off every sign of languor, and was one of the gayest of the party +who explored the grand old ruin by moonlight.</p> + +<p>Enid would have been glad to enjoy the solemn beauty of the scene +in quietude. To her the place was sacred ground. She could never +forget that in its vast arena innumerable martyrs had shed their +blood as witnesses to the truth. She was inclined to regret that the +large black cross which was formerly planted in the centre of the +Colosseum no longer stood there to mark the association of the place +with the Christian faith. The mighty walls, the broken arches, the +clearly-defined shadows, the soft mysterious beauty of the moonlight +illumining one half the vast circle, whilst the other was plunged in +gloom, kindled in Enid a rapture that was akin to awe. She wanted to be +silent and to muse upon the past.</p> + +<p>But the spirit of the present generation is not attuned to reverence. +The minds of the others were as far removed from awe as they were +from melancholy. Miss Amory and the young Americans who were her +companions deemed it ridiculous of anyone to pause and reflect upon +the associations of the place. They found only food for merriment in +all they saw. Nothing was sacred from their jests. Their laughter and +occasional screams of pretended terror rang out on the air as they +passed under the old arches and penetrated into the darkest recesses of +the place.</p> + +<p>Accompanied by one of the guards bearing a lantern, they climbed +flight after flight of steps, till they gained the highest platform +of the structure, and could gaze down into the vast arena and enjoy +the exquisite effect of moonlight and shadow. For most of the party +there seemed to be something almost intoxicating in the influence of +the moonlight. No one was in a hurry to depart. They seated themselves +on some of the fragments of rock with which the place was strewn, and +talked and laughed and frolicked, regardless of aught save the pleasure +of the moment—they did, in fact, almost every imprudent thing they +could do. Enid once or twice suggested that they had better be going +home, but no one heeded her words; and Maud, the excitement of whose +mood had been increasing ever since they set out, seemed the most +reckless of the party.</p> + +<p>At last, however, they began to descend. Enid, who was anxious for +Maud's sake that they should not remain longer, moved on quickly, +and was one of the first to reach the ground. Gradually, by twos and +threes, the others joined her, and they were about to set out from +the entrance, when it was discovered that Miss Marian was not in the +party. No one could say where she was. Those who had descended first +supposed that she was with those who had lingered behind, and these +last had imagined that she was on in front. Everyone was amazed at her +disappearance, and most of them were conscious of some alarm.</p> + +<p>At once, one of the gentlemen went back to look for her. The others +meanwhile began to shout her name, hoping thus more speedily to +discover her whereabouts. But their shouts met with no response, and +when the gentleman returned, having made a fruitless search in the +galleries above, there was general consternation.</p> + +<p>"We must go in parties and search every step of the way," said Enid, +tremulously. "She has fainted or fallen, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Something must certainly have happened to her," said another, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, nothing has happened to her," said a gay voice, and +Maud stepped quietly into their midst. "What in the world are you all +exciting yourselves about so much?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a shame of you to give us such a fright!" cried Miss Amory.</p> + +<p>"How could you, Maud?" said Enid, reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"I give you a fright! Indeed, you gave it to yourselves. I have done +nothing; I only stayed in one of the arches to look down the outside +wall. I had a great mind to throw myself over, but I did not do it, +purely out of consideration for your feelings."</p> + +<p>"But why did you not answer when we called?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, when I found how you were exciting yourselves, I thought I would +have some fun. You are not a good seeker, Mr. Trelawney, for you passed +so near to me that I could have touched you. I just turned and followed +you down, keeping always in the shadow. Oh, it was such a joke to see +all your faces!"</p> + +<p>It was a joke, however, which Miss Marian had entirely to herself. No +one else thought it funny. A check had been given to the gay spirits +of the party which could not be easily counteracted. Everyone suddenly +became conscious of the lateness of the hour, and anxious to reach home.</p> + +<p>"I feel real mean," said Miss Amory confidentially to Enid, whose arm +she took. "I never was more frightened in my life. My heart is beating +like a steam-engine yet. What could have possessed Miss Marian to act +like that? But she has been rather strange altogether in her manner +lately. I can't make her out."</p> + +<p>Enid too was puzzled with her cousin's bearing that night. She feared +Maud might have taken a chill, and she wanted to doctor her when they +reached home, but as usual Maud refused to submit to "coddling."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next morning, however, when Enid looked into her cousin's room, she +found her still in bed, and it was evident at a glance that she was far +from well.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," Maud said, moving her head uneasily on the pillow; +"nothing but a headache. I shall be better when I have had a cup of +tea. But I shall not be good for much to-day. You will have to go to +the studio without me."</p> + +<p>"I do not think I will go," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, you shall not stay here and waste your time on my account!" +cried Maud. "I hate to have anyone by me when I am feeling out of +sorts. All I want is to be left alone. If you will not go to the +studio, I shall get up."</p> + +<p>So Enid had to leave her. She felt uneasy about her cousin, however, +and ere she went to the studio she walked to the shop of an English +chemist at some little distance, that she might get some medicine +which she hoped would relieve Maud's headache. This shop was near the +railway station, and as Enid was leaving it, an open cab with a lady +and gentleman seated inside, and some luggage on the box by the driver, +passed on its way from the station.</p> + +<p>Enid started as she caught sight of the gentleman's face. It was +strangely familiar, yet for a moment she could not remember where +she had seen it. Then suddenly there was recalled to her the time +when she and her cousin started from London for Rome. This was Maud's +father!—Maud's father, and in Rome with the lady he had made his wife! +Enid stared after the carriage in amazement. Then, as she collected her +wits, she turned and walked as quickly as possible in the direction of +the Via Sistina.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +FEVER<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>WHEN Enid reached their "pension" in the Via Sistina, she found that +her cousin had risen and was slowly making her toilette. The medicine +which Enid brought was sufficient excuse for her reappearance so soon. +Maud looked so ill and moved so languidly that Enid thought she would +have been better in bed. It was vain to suggest this, however. She went +on dressing, though every now and then she had to pause and fortify +herself with a draught of cold water.</p> + +<p>"Sit down and let me do your hair," said Enid, distressed to see her +cousin's tremulous movements.</p> + +<p>For a wonder Maud yielded. She was generally very particular about the +arrangement of her hair, and preferred to dress it herself; but now she +sank wearily into a chair, and seemed thankful to resign herself into +Enid's hands.</p> + +<p>As she took the brush from her cousin, Enid touched her hand. It was +like a hot coal.</p> + +<p>"How your hand burns!" she said. "You must be feverish. I am sure you +should be careful of yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't begin to preach caution," said Maud. "I have only a cold; +but this weather is enough to make anyone feverish. Perhaps I have been +foolish to remain so long in Rome. The heat begins to be very trying."</p> + +<p>"There is a fresh breeze this morning," said Enid. "And after all this +is only May, and many English people stay here till June. I saw some +newly-arrived ones driving from the station this morning."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Enid was gathering Maud's heavy golden hair into a coil. +She could see her cousin's face in the mirror before which she was +seated. Her eyes drooped wearily; her expression was one of suffering. +She showed not the least interest in what Enid was saying.</p> + +<p>Enid feared the effect of the news she had to tell, yet she felt that +it must be told.</p> + +<p>She waited till she had placed the last hairpin, and the coil of rich +red gold crowned Maud's perfectly-shaped head.</p> + +<p>"There—will that do?" she asked, turning her cousin's head with her +hand so that she might catch the full effect in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; anything will do to-day," said Maud indifferently.</p> + +<p>But as she glanced at the reflection in the mirror, she smiled +involuntarily to see in what a becoming style Enid had done her work.</p> + +<p>"Why, Enid, you are improving as a lady's maid," she said. "You have +done my hair quite cunningly, as Miss Amory would say. My hair is my +chief beauty. Did I ever tell you what Sidney Althorp said about it +when he was here?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Vanity," said Enid, gaily. "I wonder you have been able to +keep it to yourself so long."</p> + +<p>"He said that, judging from what he had seen both in the galleries at +Florence and in those of Rome, most of the great painters had had the +good taste to paint their Madonnas with hair the colour of mine."</p> + +<p>"Well done, Mr. Althorp!" exclaimed Enid. "I thought you said he never +paid you compliments!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed they are most rare from him," replied Maud. "That is why I +remember this one."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Althorp must be very busy now that your father is away from home," +remarked Enid, striving to speak in a matter-of-fact tone.</p> + +<p>Instantly Maud's face changed. She rose at once from her chair, saying +abruptly, "I do not know about that, I am sure. I suppose, now you +mention it, that my father is from home just now; but I really had not +thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Do you not know where he is?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," said Maud, in a manner intended to check Enid from saying +more on the subject. "I neither know nor do I care."</p> + +<p>"Then I can tell you," said Enid, rather nervously. "I saw him here +this morning, Maud—saw him driving from the railway station."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Maud, in a startled tone. "You saw him—my father—here +in Rome this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed I saw him—not an hour ago. I am sure I am not mistaken."</p> + +<p>"He was not alone?"</p> + +<p>"No; there was a lady with him."</p> + +<p>Maud's foot impatiently struck the ground. "To come here!" she +exclaimed. "It is too bad! But I will not see her! Nothing shall induce +me to see her!"</p> + +<p>"Do not say that, Maud."</p> + +<p>"But I do say it! Do you think I am not strong enough to keep my +resolve?"</p> + +<p>At that moment there was a tap at the door, and a servant entered to +say that there was a gentleman in the "salotto" who wished to see Miss +Marian.</p> + +<p>Maud turned so white that Enid thought she was about to faint.</p> + +<p>"It is my father, Enid," she said tremulously.</p> + +<p>Then hastily calling the servant back, she enquired if the gentleman +were alone. The girl replied in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Then I will go to him," said Maud, hurriedly fastening her gown.</p> + +<p>"Are you fit to go?" asked Enid, anxiously. "Had I not better ask him +to come to you here?"</p> + +<p>"By no means. I am not ill, Enid."</p> + +<p>And indeed the colour had now returned to Maud's face. Her eyes were +large and bright with excitement; she held herself erect, as if +suddenly endowed with fresh energy, and with an air of indomitable +pride and determination she went forth to meet her father.</p> + +<p>Enid waited anxiously for her return. She was uneasy as to the result +of the interview, uneasy too respecting her cousin's health, for she +felt sure that she was seriously unwell.</p> + +<p>More than half an hour had passed when Maud's step was heard coming +along the passage. She entered the room with an excited, agitated air, +and stood for a few moments before Enid, apparently without seeing her +or anything that was before her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Maud," said Enid, starting up, "has your father gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has gone," replied Maud, in a hard, unnatural tone of voice.</p> + +<p>"You have not parted in anger?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; he is angry with me, certainly—angry or grieved. I believe +he said he was grieved. Of course, he tried to put me in the wrong. +People always do when they have given others occasion to reproach them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maud, do not speak like that! Remember it is your father of whom +you are speaking."</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly aware of that, unfortunately," said Maud in a bitter +tone. "But if fathers change, daughters can change also."</p> + +<p>"But your father has not changed towards you?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have had proof to the contrary. He has spoken to me as +he never spoke to me before. He says he sees he has done wrong in +indulging me so much. He says I am selfish and exacting. I think only +of my own pleasure; I have no sense of duty. Oh, you have no idea how +unkind he has been!"</p> + +<p>"And what did you say?" asked Enid, as Maud paused, her voice choked by +passion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I told him of course that I was determined I would never live with +Mrs. Marian, that I hoped he would not expect me to receive her, and +that I should be obliged to him if he would give me such an allowance +as would enable me to maintain an independent life."</p> + +<p>"And what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"At first, he refused to hear of such a thing. He was very indignant +with me. He told me I was ungrateful and without affection. But at +last he yielded, and said that he could not have his wife subjected to +indignities or rendered unhappy, and therefore it was perhaps better +that for the present I should continue to reside abroad."</p> + +<p>"Then you have got your own way, Maud?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." But the response came faintly from Maud's lips, and as she +uttered it she sank wearily on a chair.</p> + +<p>Glancing at her, Enid saw that she had become deadly pale. Enid just +reached her cousin's side in time to prevent her from falling fainting +to the floor.</p> + +<p>By night, Maud was in a high fever. The English medical man who was +summoned did not immediately pronounce upon the case; but there seemed +little doubt that she had contracted the malarial fever which is one of +the dangers of Rome, though those who exercise ordinary prudence have +little cause to dread it. Maud unhappily had been anything but prudent +of late, and she was now to suffer the penalty.</p> + +<p>The next morning it was necessary to inform her father of her illness. +He came to her at once, and was distressed at the condition in which +he found his daughter. Enid had abundant proof that the change that +had taken place in his life had wrought no accompanying change in his +feelings towards his daughter. However she had grieved and disappointed +him, she was still his idolised child. He said little to Maud. She was +too ill, indeed, though still conscious, to speak to him or listen to +his words. But his manner, and the few words he uttered, spoke the +deepest tenderness.</p> + +<p>"How will you manage?" he asked Enid. "You cannot nurse her alone."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I can do all that is necessary for the present," said Enid. "I +am very strong."</p> + +<p>"Are there no English nurses to be had in Rome?" asked Mr. Marian, +turning to the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; we have English nurses," he replied. "But I am not sure I can +promise you one just now. There are many cases of illness amongst the +English in Rome, and I fear all the nurses are engaged. But I will see +what I can do. Would you object to a Sister of Mercy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Maud would like one," said Enid. "She is very +particular. She cannot bear to have strangers about her. Please let me +nurse her. I am sure I can do it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, of course," said the medical man. "You young people all +think that you are made of iron. But I know better; and I do not wish +to have two patients on my hands."</p> + +<p>But though he tried his best, he did not succeed in finding a nurse. +Enid waited on her cousin throughout that day, and at night also. +Signora Grassi came to relieve her at an early hour of the morning, and +sent her to lie down; but ere the doctor paid his visit, Enid was again +on duty in the sick room.</p> + +<p>She awaited his appearance in considerable anxiety. It seemed to her +that Maud was growing rapidly worse. The fever was higher than ever, +and she was now unconscious of all that passed. She did not know her +cousin, and did not understand when she spoke to her. She talked +incessantly, and her delirium took various distressing phases. At +times, it was all Enid could do to soothe and calm her. Enid drew a +sigh of relief as she heard the sound of steps approaching the door.</p> + +<p>The handle was gently turned and Mr. Marian entered the room. But +it was not the doctor who accompanied him. Stepping lightly behind +him came a little woman, whose appearance at once inspired Enid with +confidence. She was of robust form, but she moved with remarkable +ease and grace, and there was a certain youthfulness apparent in her +bearing, despite the fact that her hair was grey. Her features were +homely, but they were redeemed by a singularly sweet expression, and +a pair of honest, kind, grey eyes, which met Enid's with a look of +sympathy which went to the girl's heart.</p> + +<p>It struck Enid as soon as she saw her that this quiet, motherly little +person would be an inestimable comfort in the sick room. She went +to the side of the bed and laid her hand lightly on Maud's burning +forehead.</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" she said tenderly. "She is very ill; but I trust she will +soon take a turn for the better." And she looked into Mr. Marian's face +with a smile which sought to give courage.</p> + +<p>Then turning, she quickly laid aside her cloak and bonnet. She was +dressed in grey, of Quaker-like neatness.</p> + +<p>"I am going to stay awhile and help you, if I may," she said to Enid. +"I have had much experience of sickness, so I think I can be of use."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sure you will be," said Enid, very gratefully, and feeling as +if a heavy burden had been lifted from her mind. For, doctor's daughter +though she was, Enid knew little of the duties of a sick nurse. She had +been accustomed to wait on her mother when she was prostrated by pain +and weakness, and she had learned to move lightly, and perform little +services in a deft manner; but that was a very different thing from +bearing the responsibility of watching a fever case.</p> + +<p>"You will not mind if I make a few little alterations?" the stranger +said to Enid.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," replied the girl. "Indeed, I shall be very thankful +to you. I have not known quite what I ought to do, and I have been so +afraid of doing something wrong."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, the new-comer had effected an improvement both in the +appearance of the room and in that of the patient. She spoke cheerfully +to Enid in a low voice as she moved about. Enid noticed that she spoke +with a decidedly Scotch accent, but it was a peculiarity which she +found agreeable rather than otherwise.</p> + +<p>Presently the doctor arrived, and then Enid heard Mr. Marian introduce +this lady as his wife. Strange to say, it had not before occurred +to Enid that this was the stepmother whom Maud was determined to +repudiate. Now that she knew who she was, she observed her with some +astonishment. There was a certain homeliness in Mrs. Marian's bearing, +and her gown was not made in the newest fashion; but where was the +vulgarity of which Maud had spoken?</p> + +<p>Enid listened critically to her words, expecting to hear her murder +the Queen's English; but she was guilty of nothing worse than a few +provincialisms, and these were excusable in one who had obviously +passed much of her life remote from towns, and who had retained about +her that atmosphere of simplicity and unworldliness which is associated +with the best description of country life—a type which is becoming +rare in the England of to-day. Enid had perception enough to see that +Mrs. Marian lacked none of the essentials of a true lady. She was +daintily neat and nice in her dress, her manners were gentle, and her +countenance proclaimed that she had a kind, unselfish heart, and was a +woman to be trusted.</p> + +<p>Enid wondered a little at the prejudice which condemns as vulgar +everything which does not bear its own particular stamp. There is, +perhaps, nothing more vulgar than the eagerness with which some people +avoid all that they deem deserving of that epithet, for there are other +superstitions and bigotries besides those that are connected with +religion.</p> + +<p>The doctor eyed Mrs. Marian with approval, and was well pleased to +find her established in the sick room; and in the days that followed, +her presence there proved of inestimable service. Enid often wondered +afterwards what she would have done at this time but for Mrs. Marian. +Maud lay in a critical state for many days. Hour after hour Mrs. Marian +watched beside her bed. There could not have been a more devoted +nurse. It should not be her fault, she had resolved, if the life so +inexpressibly dear to her husband succumbed to the fatal power of +disease. All the aid that it was possible to give to the patient she +gave.</p> + +<p>When the crisis of the fever came, and there was danger of the patient +sinking away in the utter exhaustion which ensued, it was she who +watched her with closest attention, and gave from time to time the +sustenance on which her life depended. And her efforts won their +reward. The turning-point was passed, and slowly, very slowly, Maud's +strength began to return.</p> + +<p>"She will do now, if there is no relapse," said the doctor to Enid a +few hours later. "She has a fine constitution, and it has conquered in +the struggle. But it is Mrs. Marian who has brought her through—it was +not I who saved her. She must have died had she had a less efficient +nurse. I can only say that, under God, she owes her recovery to Mrs. +Marian."</p> + +<p>Life is full of surprises, and the irony of fate has passed into a +proverb. It was curious to Enid to look back and recall Maud's bitter +speeches concerning her stepmother, and her proud determination to have +nothing to do with her. And now the one she had so despised, the woman +she had determined to shun, had been for many days her devoted nurse, +and it was to her that she owed her life! Enid could not but wonder how +Maud would feel when she came to know the truth.</p> + +<p>But for the present, it had to be kept from her. Every risk of +agitating her must be avoided whilst she was still so weak. As +consciousness returned to her, Mrs. Marian was obliged to withdraw from +the sick room, though she still watched the patient as much as she +dared, and was sometimes to be found there, seated out of sight behind +a curtain, whilst Maud was unconscious of her presence.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +A HARD DUTY<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FOR three weeks—three long weary weeks—had Maud lain in the +unconsciousness of fever. To Enid, the time had seemed like three +months. The bright happy days when she had so thoroughly enjoyed the +fresh and stimulating interests of Rome seemed to have receded into +the far distance. The clouds as well as the sunshine which had marked +those days were alike forgotten. She felt as if she had passed an age +in Rome, so full and deep had been the experience she had gained there.</p> + +<p>Whilst Maud lay in a condition which might terminate in death, Enid +had few thoughts save for her. She knew now how dear, in spite of +her proud, petulant, trying ways, her cousin had become to her. +Maud's faults passed into shade, and only the winning charm of the +high-spirited, ambitious girl was remembered. Enid thought that if +only her cousin were restored to health and strength, she would desire +nothing more.</p> + +<p>Even when she said good-bye to Mrs. Dakin and Miss Amory on their +departure for London, and they spoke of joining Julius, she listened +almost with indifference. She fancied that certain feelings which had +disturbed her mind a little while back were already not benumbed, but +dead. She had suffered a dream to trouble her, but she was awake now, +and knew that she had dreamed.</p> + +<p>Sharing the terrible anxiety and suspense in which Mr. Marian watched +beside his darling child, Enid might well forget all else. Even after +the patient had passed the crisis of the fever, there was need for the +utmost caution, lest a relapse should occur. Maud was herself again; +but the pulse of life beat very low, and her debility was such that she +could hardly believe that she was on the way to recovery.</p> + +<p>"I shall never be strong again—never!" she would say, with tears of +weakness in her eyes. "It is impossible! Look at my hand, Enid, how +thin it is! I can almost see through it. And my arms! No one would know +them for mine."</p> + +<p>"'Coraggio!'" said Enid, with a smile. "You are stronger already; and +if only you take all the food we give you, your arms and hands will +soon look different."</p> + +<p>So saying, she proceeded to administer to her cousin some strengthening +jelly, which Maud swallowed eagerly. She had a ravenous craving for +nourishment, which was esteemed by the doctor a good symptom.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel any stronger," she said; but already her voice was less +faint. "I must be very altered, Enid. Do I not look dreadful without my +hair?"</p> + +<p>There was a shadow on her face as she passed beer hand regretfully over +the short golden locks which were all that remained of the hair which +had been her glory.</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Vanity; you do not look dreadful." said Enid playfully. "You +used to look like one of Pinturicchio's angels, and now you look like +one of his cherubs—that's all the difference it makes. Now never say +that I do not pay you compliments."</p> + +<p>Compliment though it was, the comparison was not inapt. The short, +fair locks curling on her brow, the transparent delicacy of her +complexion, and the helpless, docile, dependent expression often seen +in convalescence, gave to Maud's countenance quite an infantile grace.</p> + +<p>Her cousin's words pleased her. She smiled, and a faint tinge of +colour, delicate as the pink flush within a shell, crept into her cheek.</p> + +<p>"It is foolish of me to mind," she said; "but I was proud of my hair."</p> + +<p>"You will be proud of it again yet, I am afraid," said Enid smiling.</p> + +<p>"Enid," said Maud, after a pause—they were alone together—"have you +taken care of me all the time I was ill?"</p> + +<p>"Your father was here too, you know," replied Enid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; but did you do all the nursing? Had you no one to help +you?"</p> + +<p>"There was a lady—a lady staying here—who came very kindly and helped +me," said Enid, with some hesitation.</p> + +<p>To her relief, Maud did not enquire what was the lady's name.</p> + +<p>"I thought there was someone else," she said. "I seem to have a faint +recollection of a woman who was with me, and who was very kind and +gentle. I believe I thought she was my mother, and she spoke tenderly +to me. I had visions of my mother many times when I was ill."</p> + +<p>"I did not know that you could remember your mother," Enid said. "I +fancied you were very young when she died."</p> + +<p>"So I was—too young to remember her. But there was a portrait of her in +my father's room; and when I was a tiny child, he would lift me up to +look at it, and I used to kiss the glass which covered the dear kind +face. I always carried that picture of my mother in my heart, and often +in my childish troubles, I used to long that my mother could come to +me and take me in her arms. You see, I saw other children with their +mothers, so I knew what I had missed. But afterwards Aunt Helen came to +take care of me, and then I ceased to fret."</p> + +<p>Tears came into Enid's eyes as she thought of all that her own mother +had been to her. The yearning she had to be with her again was at times +almost more than she could bear. She dared not let her thoughts dwell +upon home. The experience of the last few weeks had deepened her sense +of home-sickness; but she would not give way to it, for she foresaw +that it would be long ere Maud was fit to travel back to England.</p> + +<p>Enid hastened to speak on another subject, for she saw that memories +of the past had brought a burden upon Maud's mind. She looked weary +and sad, nor did Enid's best efforts avail to conquer her depression. +At last, however, she fell asleep from very weariness; and when Mr. +Marian and his wife presently entered the room, she lay in what looked +a most peaceful slumber. Mrs. Marian sent Enid away to take a walk, and +herself sat down to watch the patient.</p> + +<p>Maud's sleep was less profound than it appeared. Not many minutes had +passed since Enid left the house, when she began to move restlessly in +her sleep, and presently, with a sigh, she opened her eyes. Mrs. Marian +had withdrawn out of sight behind a curtain; Maud's voice reached her, +saying plaintively,—</p> + +<p>"Enid, Enid!"</p> + +<p>The watcher paused in perplexity. What was she to do? Enid was away; +her husband was not at hand. Should she venture to show herself to the +invalid?</p> + +<p>"Enid, Enid!" Maud cried again, this time with a touch of querulousness +in her tone.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Marian could hesitate no longer. She went forward to the bed.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want, dear? Enid has gone out for a little while; but I +am here to wait on you."</p> + +<p>Maud gazed at her in surprise. She saw something familiar in the kind +face that looked down on her, but could not at once determine to whom +it belonged. She continued to gaze without speaking, and Mrs. Marian +had to repeat her question.</p> + +<p>"I am thirsty," said Maud abruptly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Marian passed into the next room to fetch a cooling draught. She +was gone but a few moments; but in the interval, the truth flashed on +Maud's mind, and she knew who it was who was thus waiting on her.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Marian approached her, Maud flushed deeply, and made a hasty +movement, as though she would refuse the drink for which she had asked. +But her nurse appeared not to observe the action, and quietly placed +the glass in her hand, whereupon Maud drained it, and gave it back with +a faint "Thank you."</p> + +<p>She immediately turned on her side and closed her eyes. Mrs. Marian sat +down and took up her knitting again. Maud lay perfectly still, but she +was not asleep, nor was her state of mind tranquil. It was only by a +strong effort that she maintained the appearance of repose. Presently +Mr. Marian entered the room, said a few words in a low tone to his +wife, and stood watching Maud for a while. She carefully feigned to +be asleep, and he went away again. Not a word did Maud utter till she +found herself once more alone with her cousin.</p> + +<p>Then, with a sudden excess of energy caused by excitement, she raised +herself in bed, and said angrily, whilst a bright crimson spot burned +in each cheek, "Why did you not tell me, Enid, that that woman was +here?"</p> + +<p>Enid did not enquire what woman. She answered very quietly, "I thought +it better not to tell you yet. I feared it would disturb you."</p> + +<p>"You were right; of course it vexes me very much. Do you mean to say +that she has been here helping to nurse me ever since I was taken ill?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed she has. And oh! Maud, if you knew how good and kind she has +been, you would not speak of her in that way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should. I do not want her to be good and kind to me. You ought +not to have let her come, Enid. You must have known that I should hate +to have her do anything for me."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you are rather ungrateful, Maud?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care if I am. I do not want to be grateful to her. Why should +she come and thrust her services upon me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maud, do not speak like that. I was most thankful for her help. +You forget how ill you have been, and what a time of sorrow and anxiety +we have all known."</p> + +<p>Maud threw herself back upon her pillows, and began to sob passionately.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity I am getting well," she cried. "It would have been better +if I had died. Perhaps I shall not get over it after all—I do not want +to live. Enid, mind, I will not have her do anything more for me. +Promise me that you will not leave me to her care again."</p> + +<p>It was vain to argue with this spoiled child in her nervous, +debilitated condition. Enid was obliged to give the promise required of +her, and to do all in her power to soothe Maud's agitation.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But the next day, Maud was not so well. There was a slight return of +the fever. Fresh anxiety was awakened. For some days, Maud's condition +did not improve. What change there was, was retrograde rather than +progressive. The doctor was at a loss to understand the cause.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing upon her mind, is there?" he asked once. "Pray let +nothing trouble her that you can possibly avoid. A very slight cause of +disquietude will work ill on one so reduced as she is."</p> + +<p>Enid and Mr. Marian looked at each other in silence. Each knew well +what was disturbing Maud's serenity; but it was not in their power to +remove the cause. This was a case in which the patient must minister to +herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Marian had withdrawn from all attendance on the invalid. When Enid +required to be relieved, Signora Grassi or one of the servants would +take her place.</p> + +<p>Maud continued restless, irritable, fretful. At times, she was so +exacting that there was no pleasing her; then she would be seized with +contrition, and reproach herself bitterly for her ill-temper, or she +would fall into a state of deep depression, and wish that she might die.</p> + +<p>When her father was present, although he manifested the utmost +tenderness towards her, she seemed always to feel a sense of +constraint. She never mentioned Mrs. Marian, but it was evidently not +because she did not think of her.</p> + +<p>Enid wondered with some uneasiness how long this state of things would +last, and what the end of it would be. She thought it would be well +if Maud would speak to her on the subject which lay so heavily on +her mind; but Maud seemed proudly determined to keep her thoughts to +herself, perhaps because she foresaw that they would not meet with full +sympathy from her cousin.</p> + +<p>At last, however, the ice-was in a measure broken, and it was a letter +from Sidney Althorp which effected this. It was the first letter Maud +had received from him since her illness, though he had constantly +written to enquire concerning her; and when she was most seriously +ill, Mr. Marian had from time to time sent him telegrams. Enid could +see that Mr. Marian regarded this young man almost as a son, and had +the utmost confidence in him. He often said that it would have been +impossible for him to remain away so long if he had not had Sidney +Althorp to look after his business in his absence. He told Enid one day +that he meant to take Sidney Althorp as his partner in his business; +but he begged her not to mention this to Maud for the present, as he +wished himself to surprise her with the news when she was a little +stronger.</p> + +<p>Enid had thus come to feel considerable interest in Mr. Sidney Althorp, +and she watched her cousin with some curiosity as she read the letter +she had received from him. A faint flush rose in Maud's cheek, and she +looked pleased as she perused the opening lines; but presently her brow +clouded, and it was with a sigh that she laid down the letter. She lay +for some time without speaking, her face wearing a very thoughtful +expression.</p> + +<p>"Your letter has made you look grave," said Enid at length. "I hope +there was nothing in it to trouble you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly," said Maud, with another sigh. "It is a very kind +letter. You know Sidney is like a brother to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," replied Enid. Then after a minute she added, "I am +glad I have seen him; I like him so much. He seems to me a very fine +character."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he is," said Maud perversely; "but I am not sure that I like +fine characters. People who think the right thing, say the right thing, +and do the right thing on every occasion, bore me terribly."</p> + +<p>"You cannot be often bored in that way," remarked Enid. "I wonder why +you dislike the idea of perfection so much."</p> + +<p>"Because it is unnatural. I cannot attain to it myself, and I do not +like that others should excel me. Somehow good people always make me +feel dreadfully wicked, and I long to say or do something to shock +them. That is the effect Sidney Althorp always has on me."</p> + +<p>"But why?" asked Enid.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why. It's my natural perversity, I suppose. If Sidney +were here now, I should say or do all sorts of things on purpose to vex +him."</p> + +<p>"Very amiable of you," observed Enid. "What has he said in his letter +to put you out so?"</p> + +<p>"It is not so much what he says as the way in which he takes it for +granted that I am as good as he is," replied Maud.</p> + +<p>"But do you not find that the fact that another person thinks highly of +you helps you to be good?"</p> + +<p>"No; it does not have that effect upon me," replied Maud. "It only +makes me impatient. What is the good of my trying to be good? I could +never be as good as Sidney Althorp!"</p> + +<p>"He would tell you to aim far higher than that," said Enid. "Everyone +who would live truly must seek to conform his or her life to the One +True Life. I begin to see, as I never saw before, that Christ is the +touchstone of character. No one is really great whose life bears no +resemblance to His. It is not easy to be like Christ. We may strive and +fail. We do fail continually; but in spite of failure it is well to aim +at the highest."</p> + +<p>"I think my life has been all a failure," said Maud wearily. "I am a +failure as an artist—I can see that now. I have been thinking over all +my work whilst I have been lying here, and I am disgusted with it. I do +not believe I shall ever have the heart to touch a brush again."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you will," said Enid. "You will take up your work with fresh +zest when you are strong again. I think it is good for us sometimes to +be forced to rest. You will resume your work, I believe, with fresh +power and a higher aim."</p> + +<p>"I have never aimed very high," said Maud. "Perhaps that is why I have +failed. I have never thought of anything save my own pleasure and the +gratification of my pride. I am disgusted with my life. It is true, +Enid, that I often wish I could die; yet I know I am not fit to die, +for if it is true that each one of us must give an account of himself +to God, I should have a poor account to give."</p> + +<p>"Don't wish to die, Maud, but to live; and make up your mind to live +in earnest. You are getting stronger, thank God, and your health would +improve more rapidly if your mind were at rest."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Enid?" asked Maud, with a touch of annoyance in her +tone. "How do you know that my mind is not at rest?"</p> + +<p>"Have you not told me as much?" said Enid. "How can it be at rest when +you feel so dissatisfied with your life?"</p> + +<p>"And you might add, that the state of things between me and my father +is not calculated to give me repose of mind," added Maud. "Of course I +cannot help seeing how much I grieve him, and I am sorry to make him +unhappy. Yet you cannot think how I hate the thought of receiving that +woman. I want to keep her at arm's length all the time."</p> + +<p>"If you knew her, and how good and kind she is, I do not think you +would feel so," said Enid gently.</p> + +<p>"There, now you are taking part against me!" cried Maud impatiently. +"Oh dear! I cannot see that it is my fault that things have come to +such a pass! My life seems to have got all wrong, and I do not see how +to set it right."</p> + +<p>"I don't think that is difficult, Maud."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean that I should begin to 'do my duty,' as Sidney Althorp +would say. How I hate that word 'duty!' It always means something +disagreeable. I suppose if I had done my duty. I should not have come +to Rome last winter, and then perhaps my father would not have married, +and I should have escaped all this trouble. But it is of no use +thinking of that now! I can't undo the past."</p> + +<p>"No; but you can avoid committing the same sort of mistake again. Duty +is really no enemy, Maud. You think her so because you shrink from her. +Follow her, and you will find her a friend."</p> + +<p>"Well, how shall I follow her? What would you have me do, Enid?"</p> + +<p>"Begin with the duty that lies nearest to you," Enid gently. "You must +know what that is."</p> + +<p>The silence that followed seemed to show that Maud did know. Enid half +feared that she had offended her cousin by speaking so plainly; but +Maud's face wore a troubled, thoughtful expression, which was not one +of anger.</p> + +<p>Many minutes passed without either saying a word. A struggle was going +on in Maud's mind. At last, she spoke in a low, unsteady voice—</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must give in, Enid, and try for once to do what is right. +Will you ask my father to come to me?"</p> + +<p>Enid stooped and kissed her cousin without saying a word, then hastened +to do her bidding.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +A HERO<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>WHEN she had given Maud's message to Mr. Marian, and he had gone to his +daughter, Enid felt sure that Maud would not need her presence for some +time, so she availed herself of the opportunity to take a walk.</p> + +<p>Of late she had been in the house far more than was good for her, and +her health had suffered in consequence. She had striven to be cheerful +for her cousin's sake; but the many hours passed in the sick room, and +the extent to which her sympathy and forbearance had been taxed, could +not fail to exert a depressing influence on her. She felt sad and weary +as she stepped into the street.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon, and the air was growing fresh. Enid liked +to have a purpose in her walk, and she thought of an errand that would +take her to the Borgo Santo Spirito, at the other side of the city. She +passed along the Via Sistina, and descended the Spanish Steps.</p> + +<p>She was crossing the piazza below, when someone uttered her name in a +high, resonant voice, and looking round she found Miss Guy beside her. +Enid was surprised to see her, for this lady had left the "pension" +some weeks earlier, and Enid believed that she had returned to England. +The surprise was hardly an agreeable one, but Enid did her best to +respond cordially to the eagerness with which Miss Guy greeted her. +Just as they were parting, she laid her hand on Enid's arm, and said, +"Has your cousin heard the news about Miss Amory?"</p> + +<p>"What news?" replied Enid in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I thought very likely you might not have heard. I only got the +news yesterday in a letter from London. She is engaged to be married."</p> + +<p>"Is she really?" said Enid, interested at once. "Do you know to whom +she is engaged? It is no one whom I know, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," said Miss Guy, laughing. "Who should it be but Mr. +Dakin?"</p> + +<p>Something like an electric shock seemed to pass through Enid as +she heard the words; but the very extent to which she was startled +prevented her from showing any particular emotion.</p> + +<p>"Is it so?" she said, quietly. "Then I hope they will be happy. +Miss Amory is very bright and pretty. But I must really be going +on—good-bye." And she walked quickly away, whilst Miss Guy stood +looking after her with a malicious smile on her face.</p> + +<p>Enid had received a painful surprise; but the immediate effect of +the news was to act as a stimulant to both body and mind. She walked +on with a quick, vigorous step, and her head held high. A feeling of +scorn had been awakened within her which gave her a curious sense of +exaltation. She even felt a sort of wonder at herself that she should +have heard such news and be so little affected by it. She thought of +her cousin, and hoped that she would not be seriously disturbed when +she learned what had come to pass. It seemed almost as if the fact had +little interest for her, save as it might affect her cousin in her +weak condition. It caused anxiety on Maud's account, that was all. +Enid smiled to think how brief a time had passed since Julius Dakin +had sought to win her for his wife. Well, the love he had offered then +could not have been worth much. It would be foolish to grieve over the +loss of so light a thing. And uplifted by pride, Enid felt wise and +strong enough to defy this startling event to disturb her serenity of +mind.</p> + +<p>She walked on briskly, accomplished her errand, and then, yearning +for a breath of purer air than could be had in the close ill-smelling +streets of the Borgo, she ascended the straight steep street which +leads to the church and convent of St. Onofrio, the home and tomb of +Tasso, on the slopes of the Janiculum. She passed the convent and went +on up the hill, lingering for a few moments at the spot where Tasso was +wont to sit beneath his famous oak, which, crippled and propped, still +lives to put forth leaves in an honoured old age. The view from this +point is very fine, but finer still from the newly-made terrace above, +to which Enid now ascended by a flight of stone steps.</p> + +<p>Many times during her stay in Rome had she climbed that hill for the +sake of the view it afforded; yet often as her eyes had been gladdened +by the prospect, it seemed to her that it had never looked so lovely +as now. Yet why did the sight bring tears to her eyes—for tears they +certainly were which shone on the long dark lashes, and in her heart +was a sore sense of bitterness and disappointment?</p> + +<p>When Enid reached home, and went to her cousin's room, she found Mrs. +Marian seated, knitting in hand, by Maud's side, whilst the face of the +invalid wore a more tranquil expression than Enid had seen on it for +some time. She looked at her cousin with a meaning smile which seemed +to say, "You see I have done all that could be expected of me, and am +trying to make the best of it."</p> + +<p>But when presently Mrs. Marian went out and left them alone, Maud had +little to say about what had passed.</p> + +<p>"I have done my duty, Enid," was all she remarked; "but I won't pretend +that I liked doing it, or that I feel wonderfully happy now it is done."</p> + +<p>"But you will feel happier, though," said Enid.</p> + +<p>Maud made no reply. Enid asked no questions. She felt that the less +that was said about experiences so mortifying to Maud's pride the +better. The strong prejudice Maud had conceived towards her father's +wife could not be overcome in a day. Enid believed that in the end Mrs. +Marian's gentle, loving disposition would win for her the affection of +her stepdaughter; but this must be the work of time.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Meanwhile, in the days that followed, Enid watched anxiously the +intercourse between the two, fearing lest anything should occur to +check the slow growth of mutual esteem.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Marian was a model of discretion. She understood the character +with which she had to deal, and she did not attempt to overstep the +limits which Maud's manner tacitly imposed. She was careful not to +give the young lady too much of her company, nor to annoy her with +fussy attentions. Yet in many ways, Maud was made to feel the worth of +Mrs. Marian's kind thoughtfulness, and her perfect comprehension of an +invalid's needs.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was well that they were not together long at this time. +Whether she were happier or not in consequence of having obeyed the +voice of conscience, Maud's health improved from that day with rapid +strides. Her recovery seemed now assured. She was strong enough to +bear a short journey, and by the recommendation of the medical man, +apartments were taken for her at Frascati, a charming summer resort on +one of the slopes of the Alban Hills.</p> + +<p>Mr. Marian thought that when he had seen his daughter settled at +Frascati, he might return to the business which now urgently required +his presence. Naturally he wished to take his bride with him. They had +passed a strange honeymoon, but perhaps the hours of painful suspense +and anxiety they had spent together had drawn their hearts closer to +each other than they would have come in hours of mere pleasure-seeking. +It hardly seemed right to leave with Enid the sole charge of the +invalid. But when Maud received a hint of the difficulty, she at once +made a suggestion which removed it.</p> + +<p>"Let us ask Miss Strutt to go with us to Frascati," she said. "She +knows the place well, and has often spent weeks there making sketches +of the scenery. You need have no fear for us if she consents, for she +is the most prudent old Scotch-woman you could find anywhere. And Enid +likes her. It would please Enid, and she deserves to be considered, for +she has had a sad time with me of late. She little thought what she was +taking upon herself when she agreed to come abroad with me."</p> + +<p>To the satisfaction of everyone concerned, Miss Strutt willingly +consented to accompany the girls to Frascati. Enid had now to busy +herself with preparations for their departure. The studio had to be +dismantled, and its pretty things packed away in boxes. This was +melancholy work. Maud had desired that her treasures should be so +packed that they might easily be forwarded to her in London.</p> + +<p>"For I shall never come back to work at the Studio Mariano," she said +with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"You think so now," Enid had replied, "but you will feel differently +when you are strong again. There is no reason why you should not come +back."</p> + +<p>"I know; but I shall not do so," Maud said. "It has all been such a +failure somehow."</p> + +<p>Enid understood, and said no more.</p> + +<p>One afternoon when Enid returned from spending some time at the studio, +Maud asked her if she had seen Miss Strutt.</p> + +<p>"No," said Enid. "I knocked at her door, but she was out."</p> + +<p>"She has been here. She did not know that you were at the studio. She +hoped she might meet you on the way back. Only think, Enid; she says +that Mrs. Dakin and Julius came home last night."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" Enid bent hastily to inhale the perfume of a pot of +heliotrope which stood near the window.</p> + +<p>"Are not you glad, Enid?"</p> + +<p>Enid ignored the question, and said, "Did Miss Strutt tell you any news +of Julius Dakin?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. What news should she tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I did not know if you had heard. I was told the other day that he +was engaged to Miss Amory."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?"</p> + +<p>"It was Miss Guy."</p> + +<p>"Then I don't believe it is true," said Maud.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I think it is true," returned Enid nervously.</p> + +<p>"Why should you? You know we have not always found Miss Guy's +statements trustworthy."</p> + +<p>Enid was silent. It had never occurred to her to doubt the accuracy of +the intelligence given by Miss Guy.</p> + +<p>"Do you hope that it is not true, Maud?" she asked presently.</p> + +<p>"For some reasons I do," replied her cousin quietly.</p> + +<p>Enid was still giving her attention to the flowers. She had not +ventured to look at her cousin, but now as Maud spoke, she stole a +glance at her. It was not as she had feared. Maud's face did indeed +wear a thoughtful expression as she leaned back upon her cushions; but +was hardly a troubled look. She had not grown pale, nor did she show +any sign of excessive agitation. And when Enid looked again, Maud was +actually smiling.</p> + +<p>"When did Miss Guy tell you this?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"More than a week ago," said Enid. "I met her in the Piazza di Spagna, +as I was going for a walk."</p> + +<p>"And you never told me—you never said a word of it till now. You +naughty Enid! I know why you kept it from me. You thought, did you not, +that it would hurt me to hear of Julius Dakin's engagement?"</p> + +<p>Enid coloured guiltily, and could say nothing.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said Maud, laughing. "Well, I will be frank with you. +Some time ago it might have disturbed me to hear such news. I believe +I was silly enough to think that I—I cared for Julius Dakin. But I was +cured of that folly when I heard the way in which he spoke of me that +day in the studio. I don't know whether it was my heart or my vanity +that felt the wound, but it was a wound. I could never feel the same +towards Julius Dakin afterwards."</p> + +<p>"It was very wrong of him to say what he did," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"And yet he was right. The truth in his words made them sting the more. +I was a joke as an artist—I can see that now."</p> + +<p>"You were not, Maud," replied Enid; "you have a genuine love for +everything that is beautiful; you have fine taste; you have the +instincts of an artist."</p> + +<p>"Without the power," observed Maud, drily. "Well, we will not discuss +that. I am thinking about Miss Amory. I never liked the idea of Julius' +marrying her, even after I had ceased to have silly fancies about +myself; but now I really do not care whether he marries her or not. It +is wonderful the change in one that an illness like mine makes. I feel +quite another being, and my past life, with all its hopes and fears, +seems a long, long way off, and so dreamlike—the experience of some +one else rather than my own. Still, I am surprised at Julius Dakin. +He always used to laugh so at Miss Amory; I never thought he could +really care for her. But she is very rich, and men are incomprehensible +beings."</p> + +<p>"They are indeed," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"There is one man, though, whom I thoroughly believe in," said Maud, +with sudden energy, "and that is my dreadful friend and mentor, Sidney +Althorp. Do you know that he is to be my father's partner? Father has +been telling me about it this morning."</p> + +<p>"I thought it would be so," replied Enid, "and I am very glad."</p> + +<p>"I need not have distressed myself," she thought, as she went away to +her own room. "I need not have feared that Maud would break her heart +for Julius Dakin's sake. What a difference it would have made to me +if I had known the truth before! But I am thankful—oh yes!—I am most +thankful that I acted as I did."</p> + +<p>Enid locked the door of the Studio Mariano and drew out the key. The +action was familiar enough, but to-day it had for her a peculiar +significance, for she said to herself that it was the last time. +Maud's possessions had already been removed to a place of security. +Nothing remained in the apartment except what was the property of the +"padrone," and Enid was about to return to him the key.</p> + +<p>She paused for a moment on the landing. All was still in the house, for +the season was now far advanced, and most of the artists who worked +there in the winter had already taken their departure. Enid and her +cousin, with Miss Strutt, were to leave Rome on the morrow.</p> + +<p>"So," said Enid to herself; half aloud, "it is all over."</p> + +<p>There was something so melancholy in the thought, it was so painful +to recall all that had happened since the last hours of work and chat +which had been spent in that room, that Enid suddenly turned and +hurried down the stairs, as if anxious to escape from the place, gave +up the key, and was thankful to find herself in the street.</p> + +<p>She was passing along the Via Sistina when an alarming thing occurred. +Without the least warning a loud report rent the air—so loud, so near, +that everyone in the street was painfully startled, and turned with one +accord in the direction whence the sound came.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the Piazza Barberini a cloud of smoke, or dust +could be seen rising.</p> + +<p>"A house has fallen!" was the cry.</p> + +<p>Such events are not unknown in the history of modern Rome, where tall +houses of barrack-like ugliness are being rapidly constructed with +little regard to their safety or sanitation, whilst the beauty of the +old city is recklessly sacrificed to the supposed necessities of modern +life.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image008" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image008.jpg" alt="image008"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Enid found herself borne along in the stream of persons who quickly +gathered together from houses and street corners, and made for the +scene of the disaster. But mid-way in the piazza they were met by +a number of persons hurrying from the spot, and the excitement was +increased by the tidings which these brought.</p> + +<p>Enid turned to a man standing near, and learned from him that part of +an old house, which was being rebuilt, had fallen, and it was feared +that several workmen were buried under the "débris."</p> + +<p>"Ah, poor fellows!" she exclaimed, sickening with horror at the thought +of their suffering. "They will surely be killed."</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders, not unfeelingly, but by way of +expressing his sense of their small chance of escape.</p> + +<p>Enid waited some minutes longer, but could learn no more. The crowd +was increasing at every instant; but the police had mustered too, and +were forcibly preventing the people from approaching dangerously near +to the wrecked house. As the pressure grew uncomfortable, Enid was glad +to extricate herself from the crowd, and returned home by some of the +quieter back streets.</p> + +<p>Maud had begun to throw off her invalid habits, and was now well enough +to receive visitors. When Enid entered her room, she found Mrs. Dakin +with her. That lady greeted Enid very warmly.</p> + +<p>"Well, Enid," she said, "I little thought to find you still in Rome on +my return; but this has been a sad illness of Maud's. However, it is +over now, so we will not speak of it. I tell her she is prettier than +ever, with her short baby locks and delicate bloom. But you are not +looking well, Enid. I declare you have given your roses to your cousin."</p> + +<p>"I never had any to give," said Enid rather bluntly—she disliked the +least approach to flattery. "My colour was never anything but a good +serviceable brown."</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever it was—we will not quarrel as to the shade—you have +lost it altogether now."</p> + +<p>"I have been rather frightened," said Enid. "Did you hear the noise of +that house falling?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed we did," said Maud. "It startled me dreadfully. I could +not think what it meant till the servant came and told us what had +happened. Have you heard any particulars?"</p> + +<p>Enid told all she knew. They discussed the accident for some minutes.</p> + +<p>Then Maud asked Mrs. Dakin if Miss Amory were with her.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," was the reply. "She is not likely to bestow her company +on me just now. She is visiting some of the relatives of her 'fiancé.'"</p> + +<p>Then, seeing the girls' astonished looks, Mrs. Dakin added quickly—</p> + +<p>"Oh, surely you have not heard and believed that ridiculous report?"</p> + +<p>"We were told," said Maud, "that there was a prospect of Miss Amory's +becoming your daughter-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" said Mrs. Dakin in a tone of quiet exasperation. "I should +like to know who has spreading that story amongst my acquaintance. And +yet perhaps it is only a natural mistake, for Blanche 'is' going to +marry a Mr. Dakin, a cousin of my husband."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! How strange that is!" said Maud, highly interested. "It has +come about very quickly, has it not?"</p> + +<p>"With quite marvellous celerity," said Mrs. Dakin, her brows slightly +contracted. Evidently the match was not entirely to her mind.</p> + +<p>"Is he nice?" asked Maud.</p> + +<p>"He is very rich," said Mrs. Dakin drily, "but otherwise, not the sort +of man I should have imagined Blanche Amory would choose."</p> + +<p>Enid heard all in silence. She felt convinced that Miss Guy had +purposely misled her with respect to Miss Amory's engagement, but it +hardly seemed worth while to be angry now. She was half ashamed of the +change wrought in her feelings by this explanation of the true state +of affairs. It was as if a great weight were lifted off her heart. She +dared not look at her cousin—not that she had any fear of what she +would see on Maud's countenance, but because she dreaded lest Maud +should read her own too truly.</p> + +<p>But the talk went on, and apparently neither of the other two observed +Enid's silence. Mrs. Dakin had much to relate concerning her visit to +London. Tea was brought in, and Enid roused herself, and began to take +part in the conversation. The visitor seemed in no hurry to depart, and +as she was a charming companion, the girls tried to detain her as long +as possible. She had been there nearly an hour when at last she rose to +go.</p> + +<p>"I shall hope to see you again before long," she said, as she bade Maud +good-bye. "Julius must drive me out to Frascati some day. I hope to +remain at home till the end of June, if the heat is not too dreadful."</p> + +<p>Enid accompanied her to the outer door. As they were saying a final +good-bye, another loud report shook the house and jarred all the +windows.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dakin uttered a nervous scream. "This is dreadful!" she said. +"Another wall must have fallen. It is shameful that such things should +occur in Rome! Someone must be very much to blame."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do hope there are no more lives lost," said Enid, pale with +dread.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Mr. Marian came up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you have been frightened—and no wonder!" he said, approaching +the ladies. "But I think you need not fear that any more persons are +injured. They were expecting another portion of the house to fall when +I was there just now, and the police were doing their utmost to keep +everyone at a safe distance."</p> + +<p>"Have they been able to extricate those poor workmen?" asked Enid +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I believe they have got them all out. One poor fellow was killed, +and another was so injured that his recovery seems almost impossible. +Four of them have been removed to the hospital. The King has been +there, superintending the efforts of the rescuers, and even working +himself, at considerable risk, in the hope of saving the poor men."</p> + +<p>"That is just like him!" exclaimed Mrs. Dakin enthusiastically. "What a +noble man he is!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," echoed Enid; "he is a true hero. Rome has some living +ones still, though most of her heroes are dead and gone."</p> + +<p>"They have passed from earth," said Mr. Marian, "but in a sense they +are neither dead nor gone. The spirit of a grand heroic life lives on +after the human life is ended, and has its influence on succeeding +generations."</p> + +<p>Enid hastened away to see if her cousin had been greatly disturbed +by the second shock, and Mr. Marian conducted Mrs. Dakin down to her +carriage.</p> + +<p>Since Maud's illness, and the arrival of Mr. Marian and his wife at +the "pension," Enid had not dined at the common table. Mr. Marian had +engaged a private sitting-room for his party, and their meals were +served to them there. Enid thus missed hearing the eager discussion +of the day's alarming incident which went on at Signora Grassi's +dinner-table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Marian, seeing that all the ladies were excited and perturbed by +what had happened, resolutely talked of other things. For Maud's sake, +Enid seconded his efforts, but her thoughts continually reverted to the +accident. It had produced on her mind a strange sense of foreboding, +for which it was impossible to account. She tried hard to appear +unmoved, and succeeded, though in truth her nerves were more shaken by +the event than were Maud's.</p> + +<p>After dinner, Enid went to her room to finish her packing, but +presently a restless desire for further news led her into the corridor, +and she passed along it till she gained the door of the dining-room.</p> + +<p>The dinner was over, but some few ladies still sat at the table +trifling with the dessert, and talking with much eagerness. Enid heard +their words clearly as she lingered in the shadow of the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" said one. "I should be grieved if he is really +dangerously hurt. They say his courage was splendid. He was warned that +it was not safe to linger another moment, but he was intent upon saving +the man, and would not think of himself."</p> + +<p>"What man? I do not understand," said another voice.</p> + +<p>"Why, did you not hear what Mr. Archer was telling us about it? It +seems that there was a man in a doorway, pinned in by a mass of brick, +but almost unhurt. They were working frantically to set him free, and +had all but released him, when there was a shout that the wall above +was tottering to its fall. Everyone ran back except Mr. Julius Dakin. +He 'would' not till he had torn away the last stone and set the man +free. Then both ran; but the falling wall caught Mr. Dakin and felled +him to the ground."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how dreadful! Was he very much hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No one knows yet. He was taken up insensible. I should think myself +such a blow might be his death."</p> + +<p>Enid felt as if she were turning to stone as she listened. She clung +to the wall for support, conscious of nothing save a sense of pain and +blankness and despair. Suddenly Signora Grassi came along the passage. +Enid sprang forward and grasped her with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, signora, is it true?"</p> + +<p>"Is what true, 'carina?'" she asked, startled by her agitated manner.</p> + +<p>"What they are saying about Mr. Dakin? Is he really so seriously hurt?"</p> + +<p>"It is true that he has met with an injury. Let us hope it is not so +very bad. My dear child, I am sorry you have learned this so suddenly. +I forgot that he was a friend of yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it does not matter about me," said Enid faintly, "only I wanted to +know."</p> + +<p>She controlled herself with an effort, turned, and walked slowly down +the passage. She entered her room again, and sat down on the side of +her bed, strewn with articles that she had been about to put into her +trunk. Opposite her, gaping open, stood the half-filled trunk. Enid +gazed at it with vacant eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said to herself, half aloud, "there are still heroes in the +world. He is one too. I always knew there was good in him. But oh! If +this should be his—" She could not utter the word death.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a mist seemed to float before her eyes. The trunk at which she +was gazing swelled mysteriously to vast proportions, and rose towards +the ceiling. The room appeared to be turning round. Enid grasped the +bedclothes to save herself from falling, then sank backwards till her +head rested amongst the dainty collars and cuffs spread out upon the +coverlet.</p> + +<p>When she came to herself, she was lying at full length upon the bed, +from which the things which littered it had been removed. Someone held +a bottle of strong smelling-salts to her nostrils, and with the other +hand waved over her a palm-leaf fan. Enid looked up, and met the kind, +anxious gaze of Mrs. Marian.</p> + +<p>"Ah, she is better—she is coming round!" she observed in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Enid, trying to raise herself. "Why—why, I must +have fainted. I never did it before."</p> + +<p>"And you must never do it again," said Mrs. Marian smiling. "I am +grieved to think that we have let you come to this. We have been +thinking so much of Maud that we have forgotten to take proper care of +you, my poor child."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, indeed; it is not that—it is not your fault at all," said Enid +faintly.</p> + +<p>"I fear it is; I blame myself very much," replied Mrs. Marian. "How +your mother would reproach me if she knew!"</p> + +<p>The mention of her mother was too much for Enid at that moment. "Oh, I +wish mother were here!" she said, and began to sob.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't cry, there's a good child, but drink this, and you'll feel +better directly!" said a brisk voice on the other side of her.</p> + +<p>And there, to Enid's surprise, stood Miss Strutt with a glass, which +she at once held to the patient's lips in a decided fashion it was +impossible to resist. Enid drank the cordial, and felt better. She even +made a feeble effort to rise, but Miss Strutt at once put her back upon +her pillow, saying—</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; you will do nothing of the kind. You will please to lie +perfectly still whilst I finish your packing. I think I know how to +pack as well as you do."</p> + +<p>"A great deal better, I have no doubt," said Enid. "But, Miss Strutt—"</p> + +<p>She grasped her friend's hand, and drew her close to her, then +whispered—"You have heard what has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear child, I have heard, and I understand. Oh, you need not +mind me. You must not grieve yet, Enid, for I hope it is not so bad as +you fear. I have been to the house, and they say that the doctor speaks +hopefully. He was stunned, and is still unconscious, and his arm is +broken; but they hope there is no more serious injury."</p> + +<p>But Enid grew so white as she heard this, that Miss Strutt hastened +to add, in a rallying tone, "Come Enid, you must not let a broken arm +frighten you! Think what a hero he has shown himself; and remember +that a man cannot be a hero for nothing. You ought to be proud of your +friend."</p> + +<p>A faint flush appeared on Enid's face as her heart thrilled in response +to Miss Strutt's words.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am proud of him," she thought, whilst glad tears came to her +eyes, and her heart found courage to hope that all would yet be well.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +AT THE RUINS OF TUSCULUM<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>JUNE—a glorious month in Italy—was in its full tide of beauty at +Frascati. In Rome the heat was growing unbearable, but fresh breezes +still tempered the heat of the sun on the slopes of the Alban Hills, +and in the gardens of the villas were many shady nooks in which to pass +the hotter hours of the day.</p> + +<p>More than a month had gone by since Mr. and Mrs. Marian, satisfied +that Maud, with her companions, was likely to do well in her temporary +abode at Frascati, had started on their journey back to England. And +Maud had been rapidly advancing in health and strength ever since. The +strong mountain air wrought wonders for her. She enjoyed the sunshine, +the flowers, the glorious prospects of mountains, and plains, and +changeful sky, with the strange rapture one feels who has been brought +back from the shore of death to find a new preciousness in every simple +joy of earth. She developed an amazing appetite, and thought she had +never tasted anything so good as the wholesome country fare on which +they lived. She slept like a child, not at night only, but in the +warm noontide; and her beauty came back to her with somewhat of the +bloom of childhood, and a new grace of expression, at which Enid often +marvelled. It was as if there were some happy secret written in Maud's +eyes.</p> + +<p>Enid had not observed this look until after Maud's reconciliation with +her father; but since then she had been struck with an increasing +change in her cousin. She, who had before been so restlessly energetic, +constantly bent upon doing something or having something, and for +ever conceiving new projects for the future, was now calm and quiet, +content, apparently, to rest in the present and let the future take +care of itself.</p> + +<p>"She is so gentle and easy to please, that if it were not clear that +she is gaining strength, I should be afraid she was going to die," said +Enid to herself one day.</p> + +<p>Yet it was not apathy which possessed Maud, for she entered heartily +into every plan made by the others, and seemed to enjoy each hour as +it passed. Enid wondered sometimes if the two or three letters which +her cousin had received since her illness from Mr. Sidney Althorp had +anything to do with her happy frame of mind; but Maud said little about +them, and Enid did not care to question her.</p> + +<p>And Enid herself? The change was proving good for her also. Her colour +had come back, and the sturdy health she had lost. The terrible +pressure of anxiety which, on the eve of her departure from Rome, had +threatened to prostrate her utterly, had happily not lasted long. +Better and better accounts of Julius Dakin had reached her. He had +escaped, almost miraculously as it seemed, without any fatal injury. +He was recovering better than could be expected from the shock he had +received; and the broken arm was doing well. The last news the girls +had of him was that he had removed with his mother from the hot city to +a charming villa at Albano.</p> + +<p>So Enid was relieved of care on his behalf. Yet her mind was not so +calm as her cousin's. She could not rest in the present as Maud did. +It seemed as if the restlessness which had left her cousin had entered +into her. It irked her to sit for hours in the soft, deep shade of +ilexes, even though there opened out before her a lovely landscape, and +the sun shone on a foreground of brilliant flowers, with vineyards and +olive groves beyond, and the shadows of passing clouds played on the +mountain slopes, and far away in the distance the pure, snow-clad peaks +of the Apennines rose against the sky.</p> + +<p>It was well that Miss Strutt was always there to keep them company. Her +spirits never seemed to vary, nor was there any end to her resources +for the entertainment of herself and the others. She sketched, she +read, she talked and knitted; she taught them games, and after a while, +she beguiled Maud into taking up her painting again. And Maud, as Enid +had foretold, began to work again with new power and fresh delight, +though at the same time with a far humbler opinion of her own ability. +She was not too proud now to ask advice of others; and Miss Strutt, +without posing as her instructor, managed to warn her of the faults +into which she had fallen, and to show her how they might be conquered.</p> + +<p>Enid too made several sketches during the long, warm days. In the +villas, or amongst the ruins of the ancient city of Tusculum on the +hill above, charmingly picturesque subjects were to be found. But Enid +was conscious that her interest in her work was not what it should be, +and that she was not doing her best. She was vexed with herself that it +was so, but could not command the lacking inspiration. Sometimes she +felt quite disheartened, and would lay aside her brushes with a sense +of disgust at her own weakness. But the restlessness which made it hard +to apply herself to anything continued. Was it because Albano was but a +few miles away, and there was the chance that any day someone who was +staying there might appear at Frascati?</p> + +<p>But the days passed on, and nothing occurred to break their even +course. Maud was now so well that their return to England began to +be talked of as a near possibility. Enid could not understand her +feelings as she looked forward. Could it be that she, who had longed +so passionately to be once more with her mother and dear ones, now +shrank from the prospect of returning to them? No, it was not so; but +she could not help feeling that it would be hard, very hard, to go away +without seeing once more one who had become a friend to her since she +left her home.</p> + +<p>One lovely morning the girls and Miss Strutt started forth early, +carrying their luncheon with them. They intended to pass the whole day +at Tusculum, as they still called the site of the ancient town of which +but a few ruins now remain. Miss Strutt had begun a sketch there which +she was anxious to finish. Enid and Maud also meant to sketch, and they +set out with the idea of being very industrious.</p> + +<p>As the distance was rather beyond Maud's walking powers, a strong, +sleek donkey had been hired to carry her. She made much fun of her +humble steed, and professed that it hurt her pride to mount it.</p> + +<p>"'I feel real mean,' as Miss Amory would say," she remarked as they +began to ascend the steep, stony road which rises from the piazza of +Frascati, and winds upward all the way to Tusculum. "It is a mercy that +the tourist season is over, for I would not for the world that any of +my acquaintance should see me mounted on this little beast."</p> + +<p>"And yet I can assure you that you ride it with great dignity," said +Miss Strutt. "She looks rather imposing than otherwise—does she not, +Enid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," replied Enid. "If only that hat were not so dreadfully +modern, I should say she looked picturesque."</p> + +<p>"I had better take off my hat and drape a blue shawl over my head, +like the pictures one sees of Mary on the flight into Egypt," said +Maud laughingly. "Did you ever see that picture of Fra Angelica's, +at Florence, in which he represents Mary sitting perfectly erect on +her donkey, and holding her Babe, also perfectly erect, up high with +both hands? I am certain that if any woman attempted to ride a donkey +holding a baby in that fashion, she would inevitably fall off, unless +indeed she had been trained in a circus."</p> + +<p>"I have not seen it." said Enid. "You forget that I have never stayed +at Florence. I long to see the Fra Angelicas; they must be so lovely, +in spite of such defects."</p> + +<p>"They are indeed," said Miss Strutt. "Fra Angelica's mastery of colour +was wonderful; and still more striking than his colours are the +character, dignity, and sweetness of the countenances he has painted. +The errors he made are of trivial importance compared with such +results. He lived in such a narrow, secluded way, that of necessity, he +knew little of the practical details of life."</p> + +<p>"But his life was so beautiful." said Enid. "It was that which made his +work what it is."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Miss Strutt. "The gentle holy faces he painted +reflected the purity and sweetness of his own heart."</p> + +<p>"If that be so," said Maud thoughtfully, "goodness is the greatest +thing of all, and art's highest inspiration. And yet how little is +thought of goodness in comparison with cleverness! How often one hears +it said, 'Oh, So-and-so is a very good man, of course; but—' as if a +man's goodness were of no value."</p> + +<p>"That is the world's valuation," said Miss Strutt. "But God would +have us know that character is the chief thing in human life, and a +man's work is the outcome of his character. 'Keep thy heart with all +diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.' 'As a man thinketh in +his heart, so is he.'"</p> + +<p>"Yet some men have done great things who were not good," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"True, the fire of genius has been kindled from below, but it does not +burn with so pure and bright a flame as that which is drawn from heaven.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Every good and perfect gift is from above.'<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Depend upon it that is true of all art. Genius ever rises and falls +with character. The life of Michael Angelo, of Raphael, of Giotto, of +Andrea del Sarto, all point that moral in various ways."</p> + +<p>"If Browning's poem is true," said Enid, "Andrea del Sarto's work was +marred by the influence of his wife, who valued his art only because +it brought the gold she coveted for the gratification of her luxurious +tastes."</p> + +<p>"But it is only the very great and strong who can follow 'art for art's +sake,'" said Maud half impatiently. "It is natural to want something +for oneself—not gold necessarily, but admiration, honour, fame. Most +workers desire these."</p> + +<p>They had turned into a narrow paved alley, the remains of an old Roman +road, which, shaded by thick flexes, was delightfully cool and shady at +this hour. Enid did not reply to her cousin's words. She had paused, +and was looking back to where the wider road they had quitted gleamed +white in the sunshine. Miss Strutt turned to see what was engaging her +attention, then said—</p> + +<p>"Why, Maud, I am afraid you will not after all escape the gaze of the +British tourist. There is a carriage driving along the road behind us, +and its occupants have a very English look."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" cried Maud, looking round in affected dismay. Then +she added, with a droll imitation of Miss Amory's accent, "Oh, I guess +they're Americans, and they can't drive up this path, anyway."</p> + +<p>The carriage passed out of sight. Enid walked on without saying a +word. It was growing warm, and the path was steep. No one felt much +inclination to talk now.</p> + +<p>The carriage road led to a point not far from that at which the +bridle-path terminated. So it happened that when Maud, who was in +advance of the others, rode round a bend of the path, and the old +amphitheatre came in view, she saw a gentleman and lady seated on the +broken wall above it. The gentleman came forward, saying merrily—</p> + +<p>"Miss Marian, I declare! How charming! Allow me to congratulate you on +the idyllic appearance you present."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dakin!" she exclaimed. "Is it really you? I am glad to see you. +Yes, indeed, you may laugh at me and my humble steed; but I am very +glad to see you, though I was saying just now how sorry I should be to +meet any of my acquaintance. Are you better?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; I am all right now," he answered, though his looks hardly +confirmed his words. "And you?"</p> + +<p>"I am as well as possible, thank you."</p> + +<p>"It delights me to hear you say so," said Mrs. Dakin, advancing. +"Indeed, you look quite yourself again—very different from when I saw +you last."</p> + +<p>At this moment Enid and Miss Strutt came in sight. Julius's eyes had +already sought them impatiently. He went forward and greeted them +warmly. Enid's colour faded a little as she shook hands with him. It +was a shock to her to see him looking so ill. She felt as if she had +hardly realised before how seriously injured he had been. But he looked +happy enough, nevertheless. There was the same merry laughing look in +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Are you really getting strong?" asked Miss Strutt.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am. There is nothing the matter with me now, except the +inconvenience of a useless arm," and he pointed to the sling he wore.</p> + +<p>"Ah! But he is not good for much yet," said his mother. "He has been +wanting to come over here before this, but I dreaded the fatigue of +the long drive for him. We drove over last evening, and put up at the +hotel. We started out early this morning to find you; but early as we +were, you had gone out before we arrived. Your landlady told us of your +plans for the day, so we thought we would come and picnic here too."</p> + +<p>"How delightful of you!" cried Maud. "There is nothing so nice as an +impromptu picnic, and there could not be a better place for one than +this."</p> + +<p>So this was what became of the day they had meant to devote to +sketching. No one save Miss Strutt did any work. They ate their +luncheon seated in the cool fragrant shade of a pine grove, looking +down through an opening in the trees on a glorious green valley +enclosed by purple mountain slopes with snowy peaks above. Afterwards, +Maud and Enid, with Julius, leisurely explored the ruins, finally +ascending to the summit of the hill, which in the Middle Ages was +crowned by a castle, the outline of which may still be traced.</p> + +<p>The view from this height is magnificent beyond description. Below lies +the broad expanse of the Campagna stretching away to the sea, bounded +by the Sabine range on the one hand, and the Alban Hills on the other. +Seating themselves in the shelter of the castle rock, the three gazed +long on the fascinating scene presented to their eyes. There were +clouds in the sky, and changes of weather were visible on the surface +of the plain. Sunshine brightened the verdure in one spot, and a dark +cloud cast its deep shadow on another. Far away a shower was falling, +appearing in the distance like a lovely silvery mist. Below lay the +white villas and wooded heights of Frascati; to the left the village +of Rocca di Papa crowned its picturesque crag; Monte Cavo rose above; +whilst more distant, Castel Gandolfo, Marino, and Grottaferrata were +visible. A little beyond Frascati could be seen the old brown buildings +of a monastery. A long green avenue led up to it, and presently Enid +perceived a lonely figure walking along the path between the trees.</p> + +<p>"It is surely a woman," she said. "But how strange for a woman to be +walking there alone!"</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken," said Julius, looking at it through his field-glass. +"It is an old Carthusian monk—one of the few who still remain at the +monastery, for their order is suppressed."</p> + +<p>"Poor old fellow!" said Maud, taking the glass Julius offered her. "I +always feel sorry for them when they are suppressed. How picturesque he +looks in his white frock and cowl amongst the trees! I wish he would +stay there and let me sketch him."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we go and ask him to do so," said Julius rising. "I am afraid +it is time we were moving."</p> + +<p>So they descended the hill, lingering awhile, however, amongst the +ruins at its base. Julius called Enid to look at the remains of a +curious old reservoir, and she paused to examine it. Maud, however, did +not stay to look at it, and Enid presently became aware that her cousin +was many paces ahead of her. She tried to quicken her steps, but Julius +seemed indisposed to hurry.</p> + +<p>"Let us sit down for a few minutes," he said, pointing to a low, broad +stone which lay in the shade of a pine.</p> + +<p>Enid glanced at him. He looked tired; she remembered that he was not +strong, and sat down.</p> + +<p>"You are really getting strong?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I have not a doubt of it," he replied.</p> + +<p>"I have often thought," she said, "how brave you were to risk your life +like that."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he returned; but he looked pleased at her words. "Anyone +would have done the same. You certainly would have done it in my place."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," she said.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure of it," he replied. "I believe it was you who made me +do it. The thought of you has been like a good inspiration to me ever +since I have known you."</p> + +<p>Silence followed these words. Julius was feeling in the pocket of his +coat. He drew out his pocket-book, opened it, and said to Enid—</p> + +<p>"I have something here which I obtained when I was in England. I value +it very highly, and I want to show it to you."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Enid eagerly. "You have told me nothing about your +visit to England."</p> + +<p>"No, but I will; and there is a great deal to tell," said Julius. Then +he showed her what he held in his hand.</p> + +<p>Enid uttered a cry of astonishment.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image009" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image009.jpg" alt="image009"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"That!" she cried. "That! How in the world did you get it?"</p> + +<p>"I stole it from your sister Alice," he said calmly.</p> + +<p>Enid's astonishment was beyond words. He held in his hand an old faded +"carte de visite" representing herself and her sister Alice. They had +been taken thus together for a freak some time ago. Alice was sitting +stiffly on a chair, and Enid knelt beside her. They were posed very +awkwardly, and the photography was wretched; yet Enid's likeness was +fairly good.</p> + +<p>"Alice!" said Enid. "You have seen Alice!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have seen Alice," he said, "and Clara, and Katie, and May, and +Jack, and Cecil."</p> + +<p>"You have been to my home?"</p> + +<p>"I have indeed," he answered meekly. "I hope you do not object. I +wanted very much to make the acquaintance of your father and mother, so +I went down to Devonport and called on them. And I must say that they +received me very kindly, especially when they learned that I came from +Rome, and had but lately seen you."</p> + +<p>Then, as he met Enid's wondering look, his manner changed, and he said +in a low, tender tone—</p> + +<p>"Do you not understand why I wished to see your father? I wanted to +confess to him that I had sought to win his daughter's heart. I wanted +to obtain his sanction, in case I ever dared to speak to her of my love +again. Because—will you be angry with me if I confess it?—I had begun +to cherish the hope that you had perhaps mistaken your own heart when +you sent me away that day."</p> + +<p>He paused, perhaps expecting a reply; but Enid had nothing to say. She +sat with her face turned from him. Her manner was not encouraging, but +he found courage to ask—</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to hear what your father said?"</p> + +<p>Enid made a sign of assent.</p> + +<p>"He did not seem to like the idea of giving you up to me—I must own +that; but he said that if it would be for your happiness, he would not +refuse to do so. Enid, have you nothing to say to me? Cannot you give +me a little hope?"</p> + +<p>Enid had something to say to him, and though her words were few, they +were such as made her lover unspeakably happy.</p> + +<p>"Enid," he said, a little later, "I have not told you of my plans for +the future. Do you know I am going back to England in the autumn? I +have promised to work there with my uncle for a year, and do my best to +acquire good business habits. After that I shall perhaps come back to +help my father at Rome—that is, if I can persuade you to accompany me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not in a year!" said Enid. "Do you think that after being away +from home so long I shall be satisfied to stay there only one year?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said, "we need not decide that now. I suppose we had +better join the others. My mother will be fancying that I have fainted +away if I do not soon appear."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," said Enid, "that your mother will think you might have +made a better choice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," he said, looking at her quizzically. "I might perhaps +have won Miss Amory, the rich American heiress, you know." Then in a +changed tone added, "You dear one! When my mother knows you better, she +will learn that you are worth more than all the heiresses in the world. +But there she is, looking for us. We will go and show her how very very +well I am."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +TWO ARTISTS SPOILED<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>DR. MILDMAY drove up to the door of his house in Devonport, alighted +with extraordinary quickness from his carriage, and hurried up the +steps. Opening the door with his latchkey, he entered the house, then +paused for a moment in the hall, a little surprised at the quietness +which reigned there. He looked into the dining-room. It was empty; +but the room bore a festive air. Blossoming plants stood on the +window-sills, and the loveliest flowers of summer adorned the table, +which was laid for a substantial tea, with a display of good things +very tempting to a hungry man.</p> + +<p>Dr. Mildmay glanced round for a moment, then returned to the hall. His +daughter Alice was descending the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Has she not come?" he asked, with rather a disappointed air.</p> + +<p>"Not yet; the train must be very late," replied Alice, who had been for +the third time to Enid's room, to make sure that all was as it should +be, and there was nothing she could add to make the room look prettier +and more home-like in the eyes of the returned traveller. "Clara, +Katie, and the boys are all gone to the station."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go round there too," said the doctor, turning to the +house-door.</p> + +<p>"Take care you do not miss her on the way," cried Alice; but her father +was already in his carriage.</p> + +<p>A door behind Alice opened, and Mrs. Mildmay, with a flushed, excited +face, looked forth.</p> + +<p>"Was that your father?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was here," Alice said; "but he has driven off to the station +now."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, it is better!" returned Mrs. Mildmay. "Men never like to sit +still and wait."</p> + +<p>She looked as if such an attitude were not easy to herself. Alice knew +that her mother had been constantly on the move for the last half-hour, +and she feared she would excite herself into one of her nervous +headaches if Enid did not soon appear.</p> + +<p>"If they should have started from the station and come by the new road, +father will miss them," said Alice, "for he always prefers the old way."</p> + +<p>At that moment, her ears caught the sound of a vehicle drawing up +before the house. She flew to the door, and there stood a cab loaded +with luggage, and Enid's happy face was at the window. The doctor's +carriage drove up almost at the same instant. He had seen the cab, and +had driven after it.</p> + +<p>So the hour for which Enid had so often longed had come at last, and +she was at home once more. Her mother held her as if she would never +let her go from her again. There was nought but joy in the reunion for +Enid; but in her mother's heart was a painful sense that her child had +only come back to her for a time, and she felt how hard it would be to +give her away even to the best of husbands. But mothers have to endure +such trials, and they bring their compensations. Mrs. Mildmay was not +too selfish to rejoice in the prospect of a happy future for her child. +As for her brothers and sisters, they could not make enough of Enid on +her arrival. She had become a heroine in their eyes from the day she +started on her travels, and her betrothal to a Roman gentleman seemed a +fitting culmination to her fortunes.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image010" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image010.jpg" alt="image010"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>As they crowded around her, asking questions which it was impossible to +answer because they would all talk at once, Enid had a fleeting sense +of pity for Maud Marian, who missed so much through being an only child.</p> + +<p>"Enid, Enid, did you see the Pope?"</p> + +<p>"Can you speak Italian, Enid?"</p> + +<p>"How many pictures have you painted?"</p> + +<p>"Do tell us what the Queen looked like when she spoke to you!"</p> + +<p>"Is it true that in Italy everyone eats macaroni?"</p> + +<p>"Did you see the Colosseum by moonlight?"</p> + +<p>"Can Mr. Dakin use his arm yet? When is he coming here again, and shall +we have to call him Julius?"</p> + +<p>"You had better wait till he comes, and ask him what he thinks about +it," said Enid laughingly, in reply to this last question.</p> + +<p>Then her father interposed, and said that Enid was tired, and they must +not ask her any more questions till she had had her tea.</p> + +<p>There was not much quiet for her, however, till the younger ones had +been sent to play in the garden, and Enid, accompanied by her mother, +withdrew to her own room, ostensibly to attend to the unpacking of her +trunk, but in reality that they might have the confidential talk for +which each was longing. Though Enid's letters had been long and full, +they had not satisfied her mother's heart. She too had many questions +to put, for there were various things she wished to have explained. +Together they reviewed the course of the past nine months, and each had +much to tell.</p> + +<p>"You found your cousin a little difficult to get on with at first?" +said Mrs. Mildmay.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I did," said Enid frankly. "As you warned me, she was +somewhat of a spoiled child; but she is so very different now that I +do not wish to remember anything about that. Indeed, it was in a great +measure my own fault that we fell out sometimes. If I had had more +patience, it need not have happened."</p> + +<p>"Enid, I have wondered many times—you will not mind my asking you?—why +it was you refused Julius Dakin the first time he asked you to be his +wife. Were you afraid that your father and I would not approve?"</p> + +<p>"No; it was not that, mother."</p> + +<p>"You did not know your own heart?"</p> + +<p>Enid shook her head, colouring deeply.</p> + +<p>"You did not know of anything against him?" There was latent anxiety in +Mrs. Mildmay's tone.</p> + +<p>"No, mother; I always liked him from the first time I saw him. I used +to think he was not manly enough; but I know now that I was mistaken. +Still, it was not on that account that I refused him—it was because of +Maud."</p> + +<p>"Because of Maud!" repeated Mrs. Mildmay, in a tone of astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Enid; "it was foolish of me, but I fancied that Maud cared +for him. And, indeed, she has told me since that she was greatly +attracted by him; but it was not such a serious affair as I imagined. +We were so much with the Dakins; I thought she would feel it so."</p> + +<p>"And you gave him up for fear of hurting Maud's feelings? My dear, I +cannot think you were justified in acting so. Were not his feelings to +be considered in the matter? You ought to have remembered that it was +not your own happiness alone that you sacrificed for the sake of Maud. +Though it was noble of you, child—not many girls would have done it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, you must not say that! My motives were far from noble. You +do not know all that had gone before. Maud had said things about Julius +which had stung me sorely. I think pride moved me to some extent. I was +very sorry about it afterwards, and yet I never felt that I could have +acted differently."</p> + +<p>"Well, all's well that ends well," said Mrs. Mildmay cheerfully. "It +made me proud to hear how Julius spoke of you, Enid. He said you had +saved him from the misery of a useless, wasted life."</p> + +<p>"Did he say that?" exclaimed Enid, colouring. "Oh, mother, I don't +think it was just my doing!"</p> + +<p>"He said so," returned Mrs. Mildmay. "He told us he used to be an idle, +good-for-nothing fellow; but he had determined to take a fresh start, +and make himself a good man of business, in order that he might help +his father, who is beginning to feel his burdens of responsibility +weigh heavily on him. But if he becomes a good man of business, as I +believe he will, he will not be a mere business man."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said Enid fervently. "Oh, what a solemn thing life is! I +have felt that so much since Julius and I have belonged to each other. +It almost frightens me to think what influence we may exert on the life +of another for good or for evil."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Mildmay. "Our personal influence is a great +talent entrusted to us, which we can only use aright by the help of +Him who gave it. When I think of the tremendous consequences that may +depend on the way we shape our lives, I wonder at those who are content +to live as if life were given to us only for our own entertainment."</p> + +<p>"And there is always so much sorrow in the world," said Enid, +thoughtfully. "I told you about Miss Strutt, mother, in my letters."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear; I remember—the poor little Scotch artist who has known so +many troubles."</p> + +<p>"And has borne them so bravely," said Enid. "Her worst trouble is over +now. When we were at Florence, she was summoned to Edinburgh to see +her brother. There was a change in him, and the doctors at the asylum +thought he would not live much longer. She travelled night and day +to reach him ere he passed away, and she arrived in time. His reason +came back to him for a brief interval before he died, and he knew her, +and uttered her name. She wrote and told me all about it. She is so +thankful that she saw him calm and peaceful, and that he is now at +rest."</p> + +<p>"Poor little woman, she well may be!" said Mrs. Mildmay. "That was a +terrible trial."</p> + +<p>"Yet, in spite of all she has suffered, Miss Strutt is one of the best +women I have ever met. You would think that such troubles as hers might +well make her gloomy and bitter; but they seem to have had quite the +contrary effect. You cannot think how good and unselfish she is."</p> + +<p>"I am sure, from what you have told me of her, that she must be very +unselfish. I should like to know her."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will some day. If—as seems probable—my home, at some future +time, will be in Rome, you will have to come and see me there. Oh, +you need not shake your head! I mean to show you the Forum, and the +Colosseum, and the Palaces of the Cæsars, some day."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mildmay's face brightened at the idea, but she shook her head.</p> + +<p>Just then there was a tap at the door, and Alice's voice asked +permission to enter.</p> + +<p>"Have you finished unpacking?" she asked, as she came in.</p> + +<p>"I have not even begun to unpack," said Enid.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much," returned Alice, briskly. "I knew you would not do +anything till I came."</p> + +<p>She attacked the trunk at once, and began lifting out the things.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" she asked, as she came upon a soft, thick bundle, +striped in many colours.</p> + +<p>"That is a Roman blanket," said Enid. "I brought it for mother."</p> + +<p>"The very thing!" exclaimed Alice, whilst Mrs. Mildmay uttered warm +thanks. "It will do to cover her when she lies down, and if we arrange +it along the sofa when it is unoccupied, it will hide how shabby the +covering is."</p> + +<p>"The colours are lovely," said Mrs. Mildmay.</p> + +<p>"There are all sorts of lovely things to be bought in Rome," said Enid. +"I wish you could have seen the draperies Maud bought for her studio."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do want to see the Studio Mariano!" cried Alice. "Do you think +Maud would be willing to take me as her companion when she goes to Rome +again?"</p> + +<p>"You know you would not go if she asked you. However, she is not likely +to go there again—at least, not to remain any length of time."</p> + +<p>"Not go again!" repeated Alice, in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me +that she is content to live at home with her stepmother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a little while—until she goes to a home of her own."</p> + +<p>"A home of her own!" exclaimed Alice. "Is she too going to be married?"</p> + +<p>"She is," said Enid, enjoying her sister's astonishment. "I thought it +would be so; but she only told me late last night. Indeed, I believe it +was only settled yesterday."</p> + +<p>"And who is the happy man?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sidney Althorp."</p> + +<p>"Why, that is the man you said she disliked so much because he was +always finding fault with her!"</p> + +<p>"Even so," said Enid, smiling; "but I doubt whether she ever really +disliked him. I am sure he had always a strong influence over her, +though she tried hard to resist his influence. I think it was because +she cared for him that she resented his hinting at her faults."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Alice. "I think I should dislike a man +who was always finding fault with me. Pray, does Julius find fault with +you?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that he does," replied Enid, blushing. "But men are +different, you know."</p> + +<p>"And women, too, if there are some who can like those who find fault +with them," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"But he did not find fault with her for the sake of finding fault," +said Enid; "it was because he cared for her so much, and believed in +her, that he ventured to tell her of her faults. She must have felt +that all along."</p> + +<p>Alice shook her head. She could not see that that made any difference.</p> + +<p>"When Maud was recovering from her illness, I began to see that her +heart was turning towards Sidney Althorp. She spoke of him in a +different way. But Maud is very proud; she will not show her feelings +if she can help it. I wish you could have heard the way in which she +told me of her engagement, half pretending that she did not greatly +care for Mr. Althorp, but had accepted him for the sake of getting away +from her stepmother. And yet I really believe she is beginning to love +Mrs. Marian. What is the matter, Alice? You look quite disturbed."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have received a shock!" wailed Alice. "Oh dear! Oh dear! Two +artists spoiled, and the Studio Mariano a thing of the past!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +OXFORD: HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77861 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77861-h/images/image001.jpg b/77861-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..18e73a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image002.jpg b/77861-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d6774b --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image003.jpg b/77861-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce3aa44 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image004.jpg b/77861-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03af3fb --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image005.jpg b/77861-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e6a24f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image006.jpg b/77861-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ec159e --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image007.jpg b/77861-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01b3691 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image008.jpg b/77861-h/images/image008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5591002 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image008.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image009.jpg b/77861-h/images/image009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..098949a --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image009.jpg diff --git a/77861-h/images/image010.jpg b/77861-h/images/image010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6eef292 --- /dev/null +++ b/77861-h/images/image010.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..af7f1dc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77861 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77861) |
