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of tenderness came back to him freed from their intrusive doubts, and scenes wherein all commonplace objects were veiled. The day was eloquent of love; and to him of all men was love denied. Now when he knew that he must live without it, now he felt his full capacity of passion. "Ah me!" he sighed lying with half-closed eyes and the caress of the sweet air upon his cheek; and he smiled bitterly as Marco's little amorous ditty tinkled in his ear. But the elfin charm of the morning would not be ignored. He clung to his melancholy, but she ever eluded his clasp. His blood began to dance to the silly little measure as the ripples danced against his gliding boat. As they drew near the long low terrace of the public garden he opened his eyes wide and sighed again for beauty. The fishing craft were gathered there ready for flight. They had just felt the light breeze, and as the gondola drew near, one by one they turned their broad glowing canvas to the liberal sun. Every sail was rich with pious symbols, richer with gorgeous orange and red, softened and harmonised by time and sea. One by one with motion almost imperceptible they glided from their place like a stately harmony, all chastened splendour, and gave themselves with leisurely abandon

ment to the pursuing air. Philip pained by a too keen sense of beauty closed his eyes and floated on. Beyond the farthest point of the public garden the expanse of water broadened; and the freer air brought a stronger sense and joy of life to the young Englishman. On they went over the open water, and Marco now and then picked up again the burden of his tripping song. But he was silent as they came near the island, and pushed his boat more briskly forward. The little island was joyous with fresh green of trees and deep rich grass. Philip thought that a fragment of England had floated away and come to nestle under the wing of Venice. He stepped ashore and was ankle-deep in English daisies; he was screened by budding lilac and laburnum. The daisies seemed more thick and vigorous than in the meadows at home; and there were buttercups too, and less obvious violets. Spring might revel here. Across a little open dell among the shrubs came trotting a little dog with a business-like air and a rather large bone in his mouth. He trotted without hurry on little fluffy paws, turned a disdainful little nose at Philip as if contemptuous of tourists, and disappeared. "Cecco! Cecco!" sounded in a child's voice, and with light fair hair just flying and the flush of

chase on his cheek, a little boy came flying down the dell, stood suddenly still on seeing Philip there, and darted away through the bushes. For the rest there was no sound save the babble of birds intent on housekeeping, and the stirring of leaf and grass. "An enchanted island," said the intruder to himself, as he passed noiselessly onward and out to the open lawn. Beneath a group of trees the deep grass was powdered white with cotton. A little further and he came upon a tree scarce taller than himself, but proud of its first blossoms -proud too perhaps of the strange fruit which it bore. Philip had long since abandoned himself to the sweet wonder which was abroad that morning. Only the unlikely must be. He smiled with recognition of the fitness of things when he saw a girl's straw hat hanging by the strings upon that little tree. He did not hesitate; he had given himself freely to the spirit of the day, and the spirit led him onward noiseless on the soft grass, and wondering. Then he stood still. Almost at his feet, where the shade lay lightly on the turf, a young girl was lying. The tall slender figure was curled delicately; one hand had strayed into the sunlight and lay palm upward in the warmth; the smooth dark head lay back, and the deep eyes

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from under drooping lids looked straight to heaven; on the gracious mouth was a smile so slight and soft that it might abide there for ever. To Philip Lamond the beauty of the day was crowned, its mystery revealed. As he looked at her she became slowly conscious of some presence. She turned her head slightly and saw him; her eyes grew round with child-like question, and the warm colour came softly into her smooth dark cheek.

"I am Philip Lamond," said he quickly, as he suddenly remembered that he must explain himself.

"And I am Cynthia," said she; and the smile came back to her lips as she got up and held out her hand to him.

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CHAPTER V.

"Some to discover islands far away."

WRETCHED boy!" said Andrew Fernlyn grimly, as the door of the great well-lighted chamber opened, and Stephen Aylward coming quietly in looked at the master half-apologetic, half-smiling. "Wretched boy! where have you been these many days?"

There was a wonderful access of vitality and dignity to Mr Fernlyn when he stood among his art - students, square and grave as a Venetian

senator.

"Pottering among the back canals," answered the young man smiling; "daubing-hunting effects." Hunting effects! Dilettante!"

England has need of dilettanti," said Stephen with mock solemnity.

Mr Fernlyn shook his grizzled head, but said

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