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Page 26
"Did Fra Angelico live before or after the prophet Savonarola, uncle?"
asked Margery. "We came here a little time ago with mother to visit the
latter's cell, and the church, in connection with our reading of
'Romola.'"
"He lived before Savonarola, about a hundred years. So that when
Savonarola used to walk about through these rooms and corridors, he saw
the same pictures we are now looking at."
* * * * *
"I say, uncle, don't you think I am having the best part of this, after
all?" brightly asked Malcom, the following day, as Mr. Sumner entered
the wide sunny room where he was lying on the sofa, propped up by
cushions, while Barbara, Bettina, and Margery were clustered about him
with their hands full of photographs of Fra Angelico's paintings, and
all trying to talk at once. "The girls have told me everything; and I am
almost sure I shall never mistake a Fra Angelico picture. I know just
what expression he put into his faces, just how quiet and
as-if-they-never-could-be-used his hands are, and how straight the folds
of his draperies hang, even though the people who wear them are dancing.
I know what funny little clouds, like bundles of cigars, his Madonnas
sit upon up in the heavens.
"I am not quite sure, uncle dear, but I like your instructions best when
second-hand," he laughingly added. "Betty has made me fairly love the
old fellow by her stories of his unearthly goodness. Was it not fine to
refuse money for his work, and to decline to be made archbishop when the
Pope asked him; and to recommend a brother monk for the office? I think
he ought to be called _Saint_ Angelico."
[Illustration: FRA ANGELICO. UFFUZI GALLERY, FLORENCE.
GROUP OF ANGELS. FROM CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.]
"Some people have called him the 'St. John of Art,'" Mr. Sumner
replied, with a bright smile at Malcom's enthusiasm. "I am not sure but
yours is the better name, however."
About this time people who frequented the Cascine Gardens and other
popular drives in and about Florence began to notice with interest an
elegant equipage containing a tall, slender, pale young man, two
beautiful, brown-eyed girls, and oftentimes either a gray-haired woman
in black or a sunny-haired young girl. It had been purchased by Howard,
and daily he wished Barbara and Bettina to drive with him. Indeed, it
now seemed as if the young man's thoughts were beginning to centre
wholly in this household; and suddenly warned by a few words spoken by
Malcom, Mrs. Douglas became painfully conscious that a more than mere
friendly interest might prompt such constant and lavish attentions. With
newly opened eyes, she saw that while Howard generously gave to them all
of such things as he could in return for their hospitality, yet there
was a something different in his manner toward Barbara and Bettina.
Their room was always bright and fragrant with the most costly flowers,
and not a wish did they express but Howard was eager to gratify it.
She was troubled; and since the air of Florence was beginning to take
on the chill of winter--to become too cold for such an invalid as
Howard--she ventured one day, when they happened to be alone together,
to ask him if he would soon go farther south for the winter.
"Malcom told me you had stopped for only a time here on your way to the
south of Italy," she added.
The color rushed in a torrent over Howard's pale face, and he did not
speak for a minute; then, turning abruptly to her, said:--
"I cannot go away from Florence, Mrs. Douglas. Do you not see, do you
not know, how I have loved Barbara ever since I first saw her? You must
have seen it, for I have not been able sometimes to conceal my feelings.
They have taken complete possession of me. I think only of her day and
night. I have often thought I ought to tell you of it. Now, I am glad I
have. Do you not think she will sometime love me? She _must_. I could
not live without it." And his voice, which had trembled with excitement,
suddenly faltered and broke.
Poor Mrs. Douglas strove for words.
"You must not let her know this," she finally said. "She is only a
little girl whom her father and mother have entrusted to me. What would
they say if they knew how blind I have been! Why, you have known her
but a few weeks! You must be mistaken. It is a fancy. It will pass away.
Conquer yourself. Go away. Oh, do go away, Howard, for a time at least!"
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