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Page 61
"It was only what she deserved, anyway," said Margery, who was usually
most gentle in all her judgments.
It was quite a commentary on Mrs. Douglas's judgment of Lucile Sherman's
character at this time, that she now deemed it best to tell her of
Howard's bequest to Barbara, about which she had heretofore held
silence.
Chapter XVI.
Poor Barbara's Trouble.
_O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away._
--SHAKESPEARE.
[Illustration: A BIT OF AMALFI.]
Barbara and Bettina, sometimes accompanied by Mrs. Douglas, sometimes by
Malcom, usually by Margery, saw all the remaining and important art
treasures of Rome.
They studied long the Vatican and Capitol sculptures; went to the
Barberini Palace to see Raphael's _La Fornarina_, so rich in color; and,
close beside it, the pale, tearful face of Beatrice Cenci, so long
attributed to Guido Reni, but whose authorship is now doubtful; to the
doleful old church Santa Maria dei Capuccini, to see _St. Michael and
the Dragon_ by Guido Reni, in which they were especially interested,
because Hawthorne made it a rendezvous of the four friends in his
"Marble Faun," where so diverse judgments of the picture were
pronounced, each having its foundation in the heart and experience of
the speaker. They had been reading this book in the same way in which
they had read "Romola" in Florence, and each girl was now the happy
possessor of a much-prized copy, interleaved by herself with photographs
of the Roman scenes and works of art mentioned in the book.
They went to the garden-house of the Rospigliosi Palace to see on its
ceiling Guido Reni's _Aurora_, one of the finest decorative pictures
ever painted. And to the Accademia di San Luca to find the drawing by
Canevari after Van Dyck's portrait of the infant son of Charles I. in
the Turin Gallery, which is so often reproduced under the name of the
_Stuart Baby_. Not many pictures, great or small, escaped their eager
young eyes. They grew familiar with the works of Domenichino, Guercino,
Garofalo, Carlo Dolci, Sassoferrato, etc., and the days of their stay in
Rome rapidly passed by.
Mrs. Douglas was very desirous to take them for a few days to Naples, or
rather to the environments of Naples. To herself it would be a
pilgrimage of affection; and in those drives, loveliest in the world,
she would recall many precious memories of the past.
"I hesitated to speak of doing this before," said she, when she
suggested it to her brother, "because I have tried to make the whole
trip comparatively inexpensive, remembering the shortness of the dear
doctor's purse. Now, of course, this needs no consideration."
So they planned to go there for a short visit; and on their return it
would be time to pack their trunks for Florence, where they were to stop
two or three days before going northward toward Venice.
A morning ride from Rome to Naples during the early days of May is
idyllic. In the smiling sunshine they rushed on through wide meadows
covered with luxuriant verdure and vineyards flushed with delicate
greens. After they had passed Capua, which is magnificently situated on
a wide plain,--amphitheatre-like within its half-circle of lovely hills,
flanked behind by the Apennines,--Malcom said, as he finally drew in his
head from the open window and, with a very contented look, settled back
into a corner of the compartment, with one arm thrown about his mother's
shoulders:--
"It is no wonder that old Hannibal's army grew effeminate after the
soldiers had lived here for some months, and so was easily conquered.
Life could not have had many hardships in such a place as this.
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