"It is not kind to taunt me thus," said Miriam. "I have told you that I
cannot do what you suggest, because I dare not."
"Well, then," rejoined the sculptor, "see if there is any possibility of
adapting yourself to my scheme. The incidents of a journey often fling
people together in the oddest and therefore the most natural way.
Supposing you were to find yourself on the same route, a reunion with
Donatello might ensue, and Providence have a larger hand in it than
either of us."
"It is not a hopeful plan," said Miriam, shaking her head, after a
moment's thought; "yet I will not reject it without a trial. Only in
case it fail, here is a resolution to which I bind myself, come what
come may! You know the bronze statue of Pope Julius in the great square
of Perugia? I remember standing in the shadow of that statue one sunny
noontime, and being impressed by its paternal aspect, and fancying that
a blessing fell upon me from its outstretched hand. Ever since, I have
had a superstition, you will call it foolish, but sad and ill-fated
persons always dream such things,--that, if I waited long enough in
that same spot, some good event would come to pass. Well, my friend,
precisely a fortnight after you begin your tour,--unless we sooner
meet,--bring Donatello, at noon, to the base of the statue. You will
find me there!"
Kenyon assented to the proposed arrangement, and, after some
conversation respecting his contemplated line of travel, prepared to
take his leave. As he met Miriam's eyes, in bidding farewell, he was
surprised at the new, tender gladness that beamed out of them, and at
the appearance of health and bloom, which, in this little while, had
overspread her face.' "May I tell you, Miriam," said he, smiling, "that you are still as
beautiful as ever?"
"You have a right to notice it," she replied, "for, if it be so, my
faded bloom has been revived by the hopes you give me. Do you, then,
think me beautiful? I rejoice, most truly. Beauty--if I possess
it--shall be one of the instruments by which I will try to educate and
elevate him, to whose good I solely dedicate myself."
The sculptor had nearly reached the door, when, hearing her call him, he
turned back, and beheld Miriam still standing where he had left her, in
the magnificent hall which seemed only a fit setting for her beauty. She
beckoned him to return.
"You are a man of refined taste," said she; "more than that,--a man of
delicate sensibility. Now tell me frankly, and on your honor! Have I not
shocked you many times during this interview by my betrayal of woman's
cause, my lack of feminine modesty, my reckless, passionate, most
indecorous avowal, that I live only in the life of one who, perhaps,
scorns and shudders at me?"