streaks and dashes of flame and pearl about the stamens. The artist bade farewell to her paradise, and returned to a studio on a narrow street of a sombre town, where smoke from factory chimneys hung heavy over the roofs. She opened her sketch-book, and store of paints. For the rest of the year spring blossoms signified the judicious use of carmine and madder for flowers, chromes, ochres, and cobalt in designing sprays of peach and almond across screens, panels, and even in the bread winning of dainty devices in artistic advertisement. She had been with the butterflies, wasps, and dragon-flies; now she must emulate the sober bee in making and storing honey. Not high art? If she does her best at the task allotted by fate who has the right to criticise? Even within town limits she belongs to the plein air school. T XXII A CONCEITED SNAIL HE summer noonday on Como is hushed, and of a fiery intensity. The absolute sway of midday is supreme. Butterflies flit, like blossoms blown fitfully, among the plants, and an occasional bee hums as if drowsy with sunshine. The dry, monotonous chirp of the cicada is the key-note of sultry heat. Threads of golden light penetrate the meshes of stems and boughs, and weave a tissue through the foliage of warm shadow, which furnish a web of reverie, fancies, dreams. The great man had retired to yonder spacious villa, with many casements, architectural adornments, works of art, and chapel. He had a grievance, and Como is a delightful spot in which to sulk at the world. He had a bald head, a thick nose, and a squeaky voice, but he was a very illustrious personage, at least in his own estimation. He had been unjustly dealt with by contemporaries. In the government of country, and the veering of the international weather-cock of the moment he was in favour of a British, French, or Russian alliance at the wrong juncture. A sharp altercation with the leader of the opposition ensued, in which much eloquence of sarcasm was expended on both sides. He imagined that royalty frowned on him. The only course was to withdraw from the active arena, and be missed. Was his absence deplored by any one? Other favourites rose to popularity. He was like the Roman patrician who was incensed at the intrusion of Senators from Gaul under Julius Cæsar. He was a modern Umbricius, withdrawn from the capital to Cuma in dudgeon, because of the number of polished and adroit Greeks usurping all posts. He also might exclaim: "Shall that man take precedence of me, who came to Rome with a cargo of plums and figs? Is it of no account that my infancy drew the breath |