Meanwhile, Mr. Sumner, Malcom, Margery, Barbara, and Bettina had
gloriously enjoyed the walk out of the city through Porta Gallo, along
the banks of the Mugello, up the first slope of the hill, past Villa
Palmieri, and upward to San Domenico,--church and monastery,--which
stands about half way to the top.

Here they stopped to rest, and to talk for a few minutes about Fra
Angelico, the painter-monk, whose name has rendered historic every spot
on which he lived.

Mr. Sumner told them very briefly how two young men--brothers, hardly
more than boys--had come hither one day from the country over yonder,
the same country where Giotto had lived when a child, about one hundred
years before, and had become monks in this monastery. "They took the
names of Giovanni and Benedetto; and Giovanni, or John, as it is in
English, was afterward called Fra Angelico by his brethren because his
life was so holy, or because, as some say, he painted angels more pure
and beautiful than have ever been pictured before or since. He lived
here many years before he was transferred with his brethren to the
monastery of San Marco down in Florence, and painted several pictures in
this church, only a part of one of which is remaining. Little did the
young monk think, as he painted here in humility, that one day
emissaries from the great unknown world would come hither, cut his
frescoes out of the walls, and bear them away to foreign art galleries,
there to be treasured beyond all price."

They went into the church to give a look at the remaining picture over
the altar in the choir, a _Virgin with Saints and Angels_, the lower
part, or predella, of which is now in the National Gallery, London; but