"Shall we not, father?" Prince Pietro came to her side, and taking
her hand patted it consolingly--"But we shall know you are happy in
England--and we shall try and come and see you as soon as I get
strong,--I want to join my uncle and Manuel. I miss Manuel very
much,--he and my father are everything to me now!"
She stretched out her hand to Aubrey, who bent over it and kissed it
tenderly.
"You are happy now, Mr. Leigh?" she said smiling.
"Very happy!" said Aubrey. "May you be as happy soon!"
She shook her head, and the smile passed from her eyes and lips,
leaving her face very sorrowful.
"I must work," she said. "Work brings content--if it does not insure
joy." Her gaze involuntarily wandered to her great picture, "The
Coming of Christ," which now, unveiled in all its splendour,
occupied one end of her studio, filling it with a marvellous colour
and glow of light. "Yes, I must work! That big canvas of mine will
not sell I fear! My father was right. It was a mistake"--and she
sighed--"a mistake altogether,--in more ways than one! And what is
the use of painting a picture for the world if there is no chance to
let the world see it?"
Prince Pietro looked at her benevolently.
"Your father was right, you think? Well, Angela mia, I think I had
better be the first to own that your father was wrong! The picture
is already sold;--that is if you consent to sell it!"
Angela turned very white.
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