A Venetian June

ys of

X

ys of

that Colonel Steele'

see it! And, I say, Oliver, don't you think that looks a little

ling in ample folds from the carved back of the seat, and hiding the rougher finish of the stern. Under the awning, on the very rusty and dilapidated cushions, sat Kenwick, and beside him, face up, was an oil-sketch of a half-grown boy, sitting at the prow of a fishing-boat, dangling his bare brown legs over the water, which gave back

erved, glancing from his own clever sketch to his friend's bloc

of the prow. Like many athletic men, he had a gift for looking outrageously lazy. At Kenwick's retort, he turned from the contemplation of San Giorgio, knocked the ashe

ion with half-closed, indolent eyes. "But then, you haven't often the wit to choose su

a very decent architect, but I'll be hanged if

The only feature of the situation intelligible to him, was, that Kenwick, too, discarded his pipe at this juncture, and the gondolier was, accordingly, obliged to stow away his own half-finished cigarette,-4th quality,-in the cavernous recesses of the stern. He had been counting upon smok

cur

at the forward end, holding her off, lest a passing steamboat or outward bound coaster should drive her against the wall. Under the awn

ring himself together, as they came up; "but we

May replied, in her mos

Kenwick. "You're getting enl

he tells us to have our gondola moored over here, a

gondolas," Kenwick mocked; "but I'm sure it shows a beautiful

th dignity. "It was I who proposed

would be lost without

scribed as 'vigorous in disciplined career of accustomed conquest.' We found the right bridge, with an unpronounceable name, and we turned and looke

accustomed conquest,'" Pauline observed. "I

ouple of daubs and abusi

me washing in sails and clouds and watery waste

hibit, which Heaven forbid! Kenwick could well afford to put in the figures at ten

f figures, too. Even Uncle Dan failed us. He hat

Florian's and watch the children feeding the pigeons.

o old things. Don't you want to come and see some of those Mado

-by. "And why don't you come in our gondola? You

rush up, we shall have the appearance

not have done justice to the ragged shirt and begrimed legs of a model, if he had been wearing such a superannuated coat as Geoffry Daymond elected to paint in. Yet, as the two men stepped into Vittorio's gondola, it was he of the shabb

Seaweed," he said. "There's a Madonna there, on the angle of the wall, t

ured. "One keeps seeing her

ter," said Kenwick, wi

claimed. "No mortal artist

nobody knows who did it. But it's a lovely thing"; and Kenwic

homeward. He had rescued his cigarette, which he was smoking, with a dandified air, as he made leisurely progress a

u know I don't pretend to paint. My business is with bricks an

sketch of my sis

Geof exclaimed; "why,

tty! The colouring of face and head was delicious, and there was nothing slip-shod about the modelling, either. All bright and clear and significant. She made hi

't try for too much," he said al

upon the latter. He was impressed with the fact that it was impossible to subject the nevertheless perfect

't succeed as well wi

I can't get even a photograph that my friends will

her two years ago,

ourse

f cours

d of his name had naturally attracted his attention,

moment, not disconce

er," she said; "Mrs. Daymond ought to have b

some doorway opening upon the

ry asked. It struck him that this was quite his o

ot any of the great Venetians. T

?" May s

! Now I know! Sodoma

mething as I do," he added, as May and Kenwick entered upon a lively discussion of their views upon the S

mbellished by an exquisite old stone staircase, with quaint carved balustrade and leisurely landings, where beauteous dames of by-gone centuries may have paused, as they descended, decked in rich brocades and costly jewels. Or again, an antique well-head, half-concealed by tools and lumber, kept its legend in faithful bronze or marble. The Madonnas, under their iron canopies looked down, serene and beneficent, standing, her

hed by an exquisite ol

as, and Vittorio was called upon to account for the omission. While he eagerly claimed that the Madonna at his ferry was never

Catholic of one. You can see how natural it is for these poor fel

struck him, for the first time, that there was a look of his mother in Pauline Be

iron canopies, looked down,