"Does the expression please you?" she asked.

"Yes," said Donatello hesitatingly; "if it would only smile so like the

sunshine as you sometimes do. No, it is sadder than I thought at first.

Cannot you make yourself smile a little, signorina?"

"A forced smile is uglier than a frown," said Miriam, a bright, natural

smile breaking out over her face even as she spoke.

"O, catch it now!" cried Donatello, clapping his hands. "Let it shine

upon the picture! There! it has vanished already! And you are sad again,

very sad; and the picture gazes sadly forth at me, as if some evil had

befallen it in the little time since I looked last."

"How perplexed you seem, my friend!" answered Miriam. "I really half

believe you are a Faun, there is such a mystery and terror for you in

these dark moods, which are just as natural as daylight to us people of

ordinary mould. I advise you, at all events, to look at other faces with

those innocent and happy eyes, and never more to gaze at mine!"

"You speak in vain," replied the young man, with a deeper emphasis than

she had ever before heard in his voice; "shroud yourself in what gloom

you will, I must needs follow you."

"Well, well, well," said Miriam impatiently; "but leave me now; for to

speak plainly, my good friend, you grow a little wearisome. I walk

this afternoon in the Borghese grounds. Meet me there, if it suits your

pleasure."




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