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her eyes and covered me with a glance which seemed at first to denote
a placid curiosity； but in which； as I saw it repeated； I thought I
perceived the dim glimmer of an attempt to establish an understanding
with me at the expense of our companion。 Meanwhile； as mindful as
possible of Theobald's injunction of reverence； I considered the
lady's personal claims to the fine compliment he had paid her。
That she was indeed a beautiful woman I perceived； after recovering
from the surprise of finding her without the freshness of youth。 Her
beauty was of a sort which； in losing youth； loses little of its
essential charm； expressed for the most part as it was in form and
structure； and； as Theobald would have said； in 〃composition。〃 She
was broad and ample； low…browed and large…eyed； dark and pale。 Her
thick brown hair hung low beside her cheek and ear； and seemed to
drape her head with a covering as chaste and formal as the veil of a
nun。 The poise and carriage of her head were admirably free and
noble； and they were the more effective that their freedom was at
moments discreetly corrected by a little sanctimonious droop； which
harmonised admirably with the level gaze of her dark and quiet eye。
A strong； serene； physical nature； and the placid temper which comes
of no nerves and no troubles； seemed this lady's comfortable portion。
She was dressed in plain dull black； save for a sort of dark blue
kerchief which was folded across her bosom and exposed a glimpse of
her massive throat。 Over this kerchief was suspended a little silver
cross。 I admired her greatly； and yet with a large reserve。 A
certain mild intellectual apathy belonged properly to her type of
beauty； and had always seemed to round and enrich it； but this
bourgeoise Egeria； if I viewed her right； betrayed a rather vulgar
stagnation of mind。 There might have been once a dim spiritual light
in her face； but it had long since begun to wane。 And furthermore；
in plain prose； she was growing stout。 My disappointment amounted
very nearly to complete disenchantment when Theobald； as if to
facilitate my covert inspection； declaring that the lamp was very
dim； and that she would ruin her eyes without more light； rose and
fetched a couple of candles from the mantelpiece； which he placed
lighted on the table。 In this brighter illumination I perceived that
our hostess was decidedly an elderly woman。 She was neither haggard；
nor worn； nor gray； she was simply coarse。 The 〃soul〃 which Theobald
had promised seemed scarcely worth making such a point of； it was no
deeper mystery than a sort of matronly mildness of lip and brow。 I
should have been ready even to declare that that sanctified bend of
the head was nothing more than the trick of a person constantly
working at embroidery。 It occurred to me even that it was a trick of
a less innocent sort； for； in spite of the mellow quietude of her
wits； this stately needlewoman dropped a hint that she took the
situation rather less seriously than her friend。 When he rose to
light the candles she looked across at me with a quick； intelligent
smile； and tapped her forehead with her forefinger； then； as from a
sudden feeling of compassionate loyalty to poor Theobald； I preserved
a blank face； she gave a little shrug and resumed her work。
What was the relation of this singular couple？ Was he the most
ardent of friends or the most reverent of lovers？ Did she regard him
as an eccentric swain； whose benevolent admiration of her beauty she
was not ill pleased to humour at this small cost of having him climb
into her little parlour and gossip of summer nights？ With her decent
and sombre dress； her simple gravity； and that fine piece of priestly
needlework； she looked like some pious lay…member of a sisterhood；
living by special permission outside her convent walls。 Or was she
maintained here aloft by her friend in comfortable leisure； so that
he might have before him the perfect； eternal type； uncorrupted and
untarnished by the struggle for existence？ Her shapely hands； I
observed； wore very fair and white； they lacked the traces of what is
called honest toil。
〃And the pictures； how do they come on？〃 she asked of Theobald； after
a long pause。
〃Finely； finely！ I have here a friend whose sympathy and
encouragement give me new faith and ardour。〃
Our hostess turned to me； gazed at me a moment rather inscrutably；
and then tapping her forehead with the gesture she had used a minute
before； 〃He has a magnificent genius！〃 she said； with perfect
gravity。
〃I am inclined to think so；〃 I answered； with a smile。
〃Eh； why do you smile？〃 she cried。 〃If you doubt it； you must see
the bambino！〃 And she took the lamp and conducted me to the other
side of the room； where on the wall； in a plain black frame； hung a
large drawing in red chalk。 Beneath it was fastened a little howl
for holy water。 The drawing represented a very young child； entirely
naked； half nestling back against his mother's gown； but with his two
little arms outstretched； as if in the act of benediction。 It was
executed with singular freedom and power； and yet seemed vivid with
the sacred bloom of infancy。 A sort of dimpled elegance and grace；
mingled with its boldness； recalled the touch of Correggio。 〃That's
what he can do！〃 said my hostess。 〃It's the blessed little boy whom
I lost。 It's his very image； and the Signor Teobaldo gave it me as a
gift。 He has given me many things besides！〃
I looked at the picture for some time and admired it immensely。
Turning back to Theobald I assured him that if it were hung among the
drawings in the Uffizi and labelled with a glorious name it would
hold its own。 My praise seemed to give him extreme pleasure； he
pressed my hands； and his eyes filled with tears。 It moved him
apparently with the desire to expatiate on the history of the
drawing； for he rose and made his adieux to our companion； kissing
her band with the same mild ardour as before。 It occurred to me that
the offer of a similar piece of gallantry on my own part might help
me to know what manner of woman she was。 When she perceived my
intention she withdrew her hand； dropped her eyes solemnly； and made
me a severe curtsey。 Theobald took my arm and led me rapidly into
the street。
〃And what do you think of the divine Serafina？〃 he cried with
fervour。
〃It is certainly an excellent style of good looks！〃 I answered。
He eyed me an instant askance； and then seemed hurried along by the
current of remembrance。 〃You should have seen the mother and the
child together； seen them as I first saw themthe mother with her
head draped in a shawl； a divine trouble in her face； and the bambino
pressed to her bosom。 You would have said； I think； that Raphael had
found his match in common chance。 I was coming in； one summer night；
from a long walk in the country； when I met this apparition at the
city gate。 The woman held out her hand。 I hardly knew whether to
say； 'What do you want？' or to fall down and worship。 She asked for
a little money。 I saw that she was beautiful and pale； she might
have stepped out of the stable of Bethlehem！ I gave her money and
helped her on her way into the town。 I had guessed her story。 She；
too； was a maiden mother； and she had been turned out into the world
in her shame。 I felt in all my pulses that here was my subject
marvellously realised。 I felt like one of the old monkish artists
who had had a vision。 I rescued the poor creatures； cherished them；
watched them as I would have done some precious work of art； some
lovely fragment of fresco discovered in a mouldering cloister。 In a
monthas if to deepen and sanctify the sadness and sweetness of it
allthe poor little child died。 When she felt that he was going she
held him up to me for ten minutes； and I made that sketch。 You saw a
feverish haste in it； I suppose； I wanted to spare the poor little
mortal the pain of his position。 After that I doubly valued the
mother。 She is the simplest； sweetest； most natural creature that
ever bloomed in this brave old land of Italy。 She lives in the
memory of her child； in her gratitude for the scanty kindness I have
been able to show her； and in her simple religion！ She is not even
conscious of her beauty； my admiration has never made her vain。
Heaven knows that I have made no secret of it。 You must have
observed the singular transparency of her expression； the lovely
modesty of her glance。 And was there ever such a truly virginal
brow； such a natural classic elegance in the wave of the hair and the
arch of the forehead？ I have studied her； I may say I know her。 I
have absorbed her little by little； my mind is stamped and imbued；
and I have determined now to clinch the impression； I shall at last
invite her to sit for me！〃
〃'At lastat last'？〃 I repeated； in much amazement。 〃Do you mean
that she has never done