The Washington times., 1894-11-18


passing homeward some stepping along
brlskly with the light, dance-like tread pc
cuilar to the wearers of the fustanella; others
seated sldewise on their little donkeys, calling
out jokes to each other as they rode along, or
slngln snatches of strange nasal chants.
From the Palace Square clear bugle call
announced that royalty had returned from
It's drive And in the west. cloud alter cloud
was catching glory of gold and ruby and
amethyst.
Marion looked out upon ii all, and thought,
Tor the second time that afternoon, of Arnold
Foster. How his artists soul would have en-
Ioyed this beauty She remembered with
what keen appreciation he had noted every
change of light on the agate-green olives OF
Bello Squardo. every delicate wine and am
Der tint in the valley of the Arno, during the
pleasant. idle month OF desultory sight-see-
ing which they had spent together in the
city of Lilies" in the Italian autumn, only
half year ago
Their acquaintance had been one
OF those happy chances of travel which
have all the charm of the unex-
way carriage from Genoa to Florence as Miss
LinsIey had not been able to secure seats in
the Danes Seules' compartment which her
old-madenly mind preferred. And 1t had
needed but a tribe, a window to be raised, or
a valise to be brought down from the rack, 10
open the channels for flood of mutual COM
parsons and enthuslams upon the wonderful
old world which was SO new to them both. 1t
is an easy matter for two young people to
find each other and get at each others inter-
ests and ideals, while they are still fresh and
unashRmed of them, and few hours do Tor
them what it would take years to accomplish
later in life
The month in Florence which followed the
railway journey between the opal-colored
Carrara Mountains and the Mediterranean
was one of those idyls which are lived so un-
consciously that their beauty is only realized
by the memory. To become conscious of their
charm would be to break its spell, which lies
In its very ignorance of itself. The long morn
ings among the pictures and churches, the
afternoon rambes In the Cascine, or on the
sunny heights of Monte 0!iveto and San
Miniato. the lamp-lit evenings in the little
sittingroom OF the hotel, these all had their
share in making very good friends of the
lmpetuous young artist, whose reputation
was yet TO win, but whose future was all illu-
minated with beckoning hopes. and the ar
dent novice of learning. fresh from graduation
honors and Harvard examinations. believing
in knowledge for the sake of knowledge, as
he believed in art for arts dear sake
They had often argued very hotly from
what they thought the impregnable fortresses
OF their opposite stand Loints. She had OBJ
jected to what she called his enervating wor-
ship of beauty, and he had condemned the
higher education of woman as q dangerous
and undesirable experiment. But their very
discussion had formed bond between them.
Marion Goodwin. leaning against the temple
wall, and feeling little of the soul home
sickness which extreme beauty is apt 10 cause,
allowed herself the unwlse pleasure OF recol-
lection, and wondered why they had ended it
all with a quarrel. She did not know that
-l,F, 40
fast friends in a couple of hours had made it
possible for few impetuous words 10 separate
them. An older man and woman would have
missed the sudden bloom and escaped the
equally sudden storm.
II had happened on soft October evening,
only day or two before she was to leave
Florence and its dolce far niente for Athens
and q winter of severe and self-imposed
study. They had arranged for a trip tc
Fiesole. and Fate in the shape Of one OF Miss
Linsey's sick headaches, appearing at The
last moment. had given them a whole long
sunny afternoon alone with each other and
with the soft Southern nature whose delight
it is TO warm the hearts of young men and
maidens, and to become the confldante of
their romances. They had climbed the steep,
roughly paved little street leading from
Fiesole to the old monastery, had sat together
on the stone bench dedicated by an English
man to his fellow-travellers of all nations,
and had looked out over festooned vineyards
and silvery olive orchards to where Florence
lay. ba,hed in yellow mist. Twittering
birds in the sky above them, and the Ginning
bells of the FiesoIe Cathedral, had alone
broken the warm rich silence which sur
rounded them, and which was weaving its
net closer and closer around them.
The sun had nearly set by the time they
began the descent Of the little winding road
which led from FiesoIe to San Dominica be-
tween high villa walls. over whose tops
struggling rose vines had crept and We're
gently nodding their clusters of pale pink
autumn blossoms at them as they passed.
Although no definite word had been spoken,
the afternoon had so ripened and concen-
trated their vague emotions that the most
commonplace sentence seemed to them
weighty with the unexpTessed thought behind
it. Love had not YET unmasked himself to
them, but they were both conscious of the un-
accustomed restlessness OF expectation which
precedes his first revelation of himself, and
felt the strain of the tightening bonds with
which he was striving to unite them. Whose
fault was it that he failed? Perhaps the ten
sion was too great for their experience to
bear. They did not understand the new force
which was working within them, and so it
brought mischief. 1t is often so with very
young lovers; they are so full of unmanage-
able new emotions that they have to leave
their words to take care of themselves and
they come out at random-and sometimes all
wrongi
He had been oppressed with the thought
that she was to leave him so soon. and had
wanted to say something to prevent it. but he
had not dared to begin with what was upper
most love you. why should we ever
part?''-And in his attempt to reach that eli
max by degrees he had put it awkwardly and
lost the right direction altogether.
Are you still determined to carry out that
foolish project of yours?' If he had not said
''foolish, :" it might have succeeded better
1T may seem foolish to you-you have
never understood it. To me it is the fulfill
ment of my greatest wish, she had answered,
feeling a little excited and defiant, she hardly
knew why.
Her greatest wishr' and she could say
that after the last two hours. Could she
imagine nothing. even now, sweeter than the
acquiring of knowledge? His disappoint-
ment had hardened his voice as he exclaimed,
almost angrily:
'What does girl like you want of more
Greek? For my part, believe that all this
study will just spoil you. | would much
rather have you just as you are now"
Perhaps it was the touch of presumptive
in his speech; perhaps it was
the last girlish struggle against the defeat
which she knew to be imminent, and dreaded
Wnlle sue lonSeu lot IT, her nedTI was peat-
ing FAST and the words Il love you" were as
near her lips as they had been near his, but
she had answered coldly, her head very high
in the air:
II do not suppose that girl like me- in
choosing a certain course of study does it
with any particular reference as to how man
like you might prefer to have herl''
''You are quite right beg your pardon"
be had answered stifiy.
And then they had each wrapped them
selves tightly up in their wounded dignity
and had walked silently down on the oppo-
site sides of the road from each other, while
the little god of love turned his back on them.
1t was all very childish and trivial, and had