a private office, but where the father and daughter often sat alone in
the evening; for here Girolamo kept many designs and papers relating to
his work, and they often discussed his plans together.

He unlocked an old carved cabinet and brought out a roll of parchments,
spreading them upon the table and explaining: "I could not leave them
while I went to call thee, for it is an order from the Senate--thou
see'st the seal--and a copy of the letter of the Ambassador of the
Republic to the Levant, with this folded therein--truly a curious scheme
of color, but very rich, and the lines are somewhat uneven. What
thinkest thou of the design?"

"The outline is good," she answered, after a careful scrutiny, for she
had been trained in copying his best designs. This was a pattern
furnished by the grand vizier of the sultan for a mosque lamp of a
peculiar shape, wrought over with verses from the Koran, in various
colored enamels. "The outline is well; but the colors--mayst thou not
change this yellow? there is too much of it."

"Nay, for the colors have a meaning; methinks this yellow is their
sacred color. But the texts are fine; the broken lines of the characters
have a charm, and the scrolls relieve the surface, making semblance of
shadow. Yet I will make thee a prettier one for thine own chamber, with
some thought of thy choosing."

She looked up at him with shining eyes; their trouble, combated and
borne together, had brought them very near to one another.

"I have often wished for a lamp with the colors soft like moonlight; and
the design shall be of thine own hand, and the verse upon it shall be an