"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."