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Page 51
She well knew that his heart had been wholly consecrated to the only
love it had heretofore known, and the query had often arisen in her mind
whether the approach of another affection might not in the first place
work some unhappiness. That he could ever love again as he had loved
Margaret she did not for a moment believe. She well knew, however, that
the happiness of any woman who might give her life into her brother's
keeping was safe, and her wish for him was that he might be so drawn
toward some loving woman that he might desire to make her his wife, and
so be blessed with family life and love; for the thought that he might
live lonely, without family ties, was inexpressibly sad to her loving
heart.
We have seen how the coming of Miss Sherman into their lives roused
these hopes afresh; and she now wondered if his evident unrest might be
caused by the first suggestion of the thought of asking her to become
his wife. It was evident that he admired her and enjoyed her society;
and, so far as Miss Sherman's feelings were concerned, she felt no
doubt. Indeed, she sometimes shrank a bit from the free display of her
fondness for his company, and hoped that Malcom and the girls might not
notice it. She easily excused it, however, to herself, although the
closer intimacy of daily intercourse was revealing, little by little,
flaws in the character she had thought so fair.
How utterly mistaken was Mrs. Douglas! and how shocked would Lucile
Sherman have been this very morning could she have known how strong a
longing leaped into Robert Sumner's heart to take into his hungry arms
that graceful figure in worn brown suit, with brave, smiling young face
and steadfast eyes, put her into his carriage, and drive
away,--anywhere,--so it only were away and away!
Or, how stern a grip he imposed on himself as he took his seat beside
her dimpling, chattering self, radiant with fresh colors and graceful
draperies.
Or, of the tumult of his thoughts as they drove along through the narrow
streets, across the yellow Tiber and up to the stately entrance of St.
Peter's.
Chapter XIV.
A Visit to the Sistine Chapel.
_Deep love lieth under
These pictures of time;
They fade in the light of
Their meaning sublime._
--EMERSON.
[Illustration: ST. PETER'S AND CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO, ROME.]
They first passed into the great Cathedral in order to give a look at
that most beautiful of all Michael Angelo's sculptures--_Mary holding on
her knees her dead Son_. Barbara and Bettina had studied it on a former
visit to St. Peter's when Mr. Sumner was not with them. Now he asked
them to note the evident weight of the dead Christ,--with every muscle
relaxed,--a triumph of the sculptor's art; and, especially, the
impersonal face of the mother; a face that is simply the embodiment of
her feeling, and wholly apart from the ordinary human!
"This is a special characteristic of Michael Angelo's faces," he said,
"and denotes the high order of his thought. In it, he approached more
closely the conceptions of the ancient Greek masters than has any other
modern artist--and now we will go to the Sistine Chapel," he added,
after a little time.
They went out to the Vatican entrance, passed the almost historic Swiss
Guards, and climbed the stairs with quite the emotion that they were
about to visit some sacred shrine, so much had they read and so deeply
had they thought about the frescoes they were about to see.
For some time after they entered the Chapel Mr. Sumner said nothing. The
custodian, according to custom, provided them with mirrors; and each one
passed slowly along beneath the world-famous ceiling paintings, catching
the reflection of fragment after fragment, figure after figure. Soon the
mirrors were cast aside, and the opera-glasses Mr. Sumner had advised
them to bring were brought into use,--they were no longer content to
study simply a reflected image.
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