[figure description] Page 531.[end figure description]

Aurelia presented the brightest and most beautiful
appearance imaginable:—indeed, her cheeks were so
rosy, her eyes so blue, her hair so brilliant in the sunlight,
which made it resemble threads of gold, that Mr. Sansoucy
found his free will leaving him more rapidly than
even he anticipated. It was not her beauty, however,
which subdued this man, long used to fair faces and bright
eyes, and unaffected by them. It was the young girl's
innocence and goodness, her tender playfulness and utter
sincerity which chained him.

Mr. Sansoucy was no longer his own master.

They traversed thus the chill, brilliant streets, among
the crowd of wayfarers, and soon reached the picture
gallery.

It was simply a long apartment and a smaller one, in
which were arranged numerous fine paintings in oil, which
the public were invited to come and admire, at a very
moderate charge, at all hours of the day and for half of
the night.

The rooms were thronged with that diverse crowd which
represents, at all public spectacles, the vast army of sight
seers—and every one seemed to be interested and entertained.
There were old grey-headed men, who stood
stoutly before a picture and seemed to defy it to excite in
them the least admiration—there were little girls, who

[figure description] Page 532.[end figure description]

tripped from side to side with diminutive hands, covered
with muffotees, and who, escaping from mamma, danced
in delight before a “little love of a baby” holding out its
chubby arms, and babbling—plainly on the canvass!—
to the smiling matron hanging over it. There were boys,
too, corrugating their faces in sympathetic appreciation
of a skating scene, in which an unfortunate urchin had
just produced that appearance in the ice called, technically,
a “star,” with his head—and whose countenance expressed
a height of misery affecting in the extreme. There were,
besides, young ladies of fifteen in their first long dresses,
and with curls bound up for this occasion, woman fashion,
who promenaded full of dignity, escorted by young gentlemen
of seventeen, with patent leather shoes which tortured
them, and standing collars, sawing through their ears, and
glossy hats borne gallantly beneath the arm: and this
class of the visitors would pause before the pictures celebrating
Paul's devotion to Virginia—or the deathless love
of the Moorish fire worshippers—before anything which
indicated everlasting faithfulness and gallantry. Last
of all came a few gentlemen of elegant appearance accompanied
by ladies still more elegant—and when the eyeglasses
of these visitors were levelled at the pictures, Titian
blenched, and Poussin hid his head—Murillo cowered
before them—and even Raphael, with all his glorious
tenderness, failed—passing like a dream away. That was
the real ordeal, and foremost among the dreadful connoisseurs,
was Heartsease.

Aurelia and Mr. Sansoucy passed through the crowd,
and exchanging greetings with many friends, made the

[figure description] Page 533.[end figure description]

circuit of the room, admiring the pictures, which were
unusually fine copies—some of them indeed, originals.

They paused for some time before a picture, which was
painted with a rude vigor and breadth of design, which
produced a strange effect. It was one of the old Hebrew
prophets, with gaunt but muscular face, deep, cavernous
eyes, and hoary beard bending down towards a parchment,
upon which with a reed he traced the mystic sentences of
his prophecy. The parchment rested upon a stone, the
writer was on his knees, which his coarse robe half concealed;
and in the back-ground a bloody sunset reared its
huge battlements of crimson cloud, as though to typify the
woes denounced on the Hebrews by the pen of the writer.

The effect was so strong—the brow and eyes of the prophet
were so stern and yet awestruck, as he wrote—his
shoulders bent so low, almost crouching, beneath the
mighty weight of what flowed on him—that Aurelia and
her companion did not move for many minutes—silent
before that supreme spectacle of man, face to face with the
Almighty.

It was just as Aurelia returned to the world around her,
with a sigh, that she heard an amiable and languid voice
say gently:

“A good thing that, my dear Miss Ashton—isn't it?
Observe that toe bent back so naturally!—A fine piece
of coloring.”

And Heartsease, amiably simpering, held out his kid
glove to Sansoucy.

“Oh, Mr. Heartsease! what a criticism!” said Aurelia.

“You are surprised?”

[figure description] Page 534.[end figure description]

“Yes, sir!”

“Well, I thought you knew I was a connoisseur, my
dear Miss Ashton!”

“Are you, sir?”

“I should think so! I flatter myself that excellent
detail of the picture—the toe—would not have struck an
indifferent observer. Say now, did you notice it?”

“Indeed, no! said Aurelia, who was beginning to experience
a strong desire to laugh at the unsuspecting selfsatisfaction
of Mr. Heartsease, “Indeed, I did not.”

“I thought so,” said Heartsease, with a good-humored
air, “it is more than we can expect of young ladies—”

“What, sir?”

“A knowledge of the details of art—those trifles apparently
by which it nevertheless achieves its greatest
triumphs.”

And Heartsease levelled his eye-glass at the toe, and
smiled.

“A little too much shadow under the nose,” he said,
raising his glass, “and the chiaroscuro of the lower portion
of the sky is too deep—but on the whole the general effect
is eminently pleasing. Ah, my dear Miss Emmeline!
your most devoted slave—ta, ta! my—Gosyp, you know,”
he whispered: and aloud, “dear Sansoucy, how I envy
you your companion!”

And kissing his fingers, Heartsease joined a lady who
had just entered, and disappeared in the crowd, smiling
and graceful, and full of the most delightful good humor.

“What a character!” said Aurelia, laughing, “he
amuses me to death.”

[figure description] Page 535.[end figure description]

“Does he?” said Sansoucy, smiling.

“Yes, indeed.”

“Then I think you will not repent your walk.”

“Repent it?”

“Yes—for really I do not see much difference between
myself and Mr. Heartsease—we are both dilletanti.”

“Oh, how can you be so unjust!”

“Unjust?”

“To yourself.”

“I am not.”

“Indeed you are—a thousand times unjust.”

Sansoucy sighed and shook his head, with a faint smile.

“I believe I have some opinions which Mr. Heartsease
does not hold—but I had better beware how I arrogate any
credit on that point. It is very natural that you should
take my part—we have been friends so long, you know.”

“Yes, very long.”

“Do you ever think of old times?”

“Oh, yes.”

And for a moment the young girl's head sank.

“What a pity it is that we cannot return to them?”
he said, softly.

“I'm afraid we cannot,” she murmured, with a blush,
and a timid glance, which was the very perfection of
frankness and innocence.

“Will you try?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Come, then,” said Mr. Sansoucy, placing the little
hand upon his arm; “I will assist you.”

And he led the way into the smaller apartment of the

[figure description] Page 536.[end figure description]

exhibition, where, indeed, only some half-a-dozen pictures
hung, and which the crowd, for a moment, had deserted.

As Sansoucy led the way into this apartment, a sudden
and inconceivably rapid thought made his heart throb,
and his cheek flush. If she did not feel the throb, did
not see the blush, she was without feeling, and blind—
but Aurelia did not exhibit any such knowledge.

Need we explain the cause of Mr. Ernest Sansoucy's
sudden emotion—need we say that like an honest fellow,
he had thought suddenly that she would go back to that
youth with him forever, if he held out his arms and said
“Come! come! Aurelia!”

He stopped before a little picture hanging by the
window, pointed to it, and said in a low voice:

“Do you recognize it?”

She started, and colored to the roots of her hair, and
murmured:

“It is—it is—!”

She could go no further.

“It is what I have kept always since that moment as
my dearest treasure!” said Mr. Sansoucy, unable to
control his feelings; “as my blessing, and my consolation!
It has gone with me every where, and made me
pure! It has never left me, and never will; for it will
lie upon my bosom when I am pale and cold, Aurelia!”

And his gaze, full of infinite tenderness, made her raise
her eyes, and look at him with tears and blushes.

“Aurelia! let me, like an honest gentleman—like
Ernest—the Ernest of your childhood—speak to you!
You are not prepared for this—I did not intend it—but

p506-548 [figure description] Page 537.[end figure description]

my heart cries out to you! I cannot stifle it. Aurelia!
be my blessing, my treasure, my dear wife!”

And Sansoucy felt the heart throb beneath his arm
upon which her hand rested—saw her eyes fill with tears
of love and tenderness—took the small hand in his, and
nothing more was needed.

Heart spoke to heart, and laughed at such poor things
as words. And so it always will be, O, my friends! who
seriously investigate these deep, mysterious subjects!
The flood slowly rises—a trifle like the picture of Aurelia
in her childhood, makes it flow over—and then, with a
single look, a pressure of the hand, the terrible ordeal is
passed through. The fine speeches made by lovers at
full length in numerous romances, are forgotten; and the
Rubicon is passed.

Aurelia and Ernest certainly thus passed that renowned
stream, and entering beneath the fair Italian skies of love
and sunshine, did not know they walked home over ice, and
through a bitter wind. The world from that time forth was
warmth and light—the spring had come, to reign forever.