F. A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband. You MUST not, you SHALL not go. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. A broken laugh followed the action. Some day I shall come back, and I will show you on canvas the things which have come to me up here amongst the eternal silence. Kneebone assures me he didn't receive them, I can't do otherwise than believe you. The burden of decision had been transferred. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation.
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