"Yes; all of them," said Miriam,--"and many another, whom the world little dreams of, has been made our brother or our sister, by what we have done within this hour!"
"I can well imagine it," answered Miriam. "One clay image is readily copied from another. But let us first see Guido's picture. The light is favorable now."
"Do you consider that a sufficient explanation?" asked Miriam, with a smile from which the sculptor involuntarily turned away his eyes. "Does it satisfy you?"
As they left the cemetery she put money into the sacristan's hand to an amount that made his eyes open wide and glisten, and requested that it might be expended in masses for the repose of Father Antonio's soul.
"That hour I speak of may never come," said Miriam. "So farewell--farewell forever."
"It is not I, Miriam," said Hilda; "not I that have done this."
I MIRIAM, HILDA, KENYON, DONATELLO II THE FAUN III SUBTERRANEAN REMINISCENCES IV THE SPECTRE OF THE CATACOMB V MIRIAM'S STUDIO VI THE VIRGIN'S SHRINE VII BEATRICE VIII THE SUBURBAN VILLA IX THE FAUN AND NYMPH X THE SYLVAN DANCE XI FRAGMENTARY SENTENCES XII A STROLL ON THE PINCIAN XIII A SCULPTOR'S STUDIO XIV CLEOPATRA XV AN AESTHETIC COMPANY XVI A MOONLIGHT RAMBLE XVII MIRIAM'S TROUBLE XVIII ON THE EDGE OF A PRECIPICE XIX THE FAUN'S TRANSFORMATION XX THE BURIAL CHANT XXI THE DEAD CAPUCHIN XXII THE MEDICI GARDENS XXIII MIRIAM AND HILDA
"Only myself," answered Donatello, "and Tomaso, who has been butler since my grandfather's time, and old Stella, who goes sweeping and dusting about the chambers, and Girolamo, the cook, who has but an idle life of it. He shall send you up a chicken forthwith. But, first of all, I must summon one of the contadini from the farmhouse yonder, to take your horse to the stable."