each one seeming more adorable than the other, seem to bear her up in her
glad flight.

"Listen," Luisa whispered, "do you not hear them singing 'Halleleujah'?"

There were other pictures in the same room, and one especially that
interested Andrea. It was Tintoretto's Miracle of St. Mark, and he listened
attentively as his father told the story:

How a certain pious slave, forbidden to visit and venerate the house of St.
Mark, disobeyed the command and went, notwithstanding. His master, angered,
ordered that the poor fellow's eyes be put out. But lo, a miracle stayed
the hands of those who were sent to carry out the cruel sentence. The slave
was freed, and his master converted.

Then Luisa led Maria into another room, saying:

"Here is the picture I most wanted you to see, for you are named for the
blessed Virgin. Have you not heard how, when Mary was scarcely more than a
child, she was taken to the temple and consecrated to the service of the
church?"

Maria shook her head; her childish heart was full; and with solemn eyes she
looked long and earnestly at the little girl, with tightly braided hair,
slowly mounting the long flight of steps to the high priest who, though he
seemed stern and austere, held out his hand in kindly greeting.

Long Maria lingered, noticing every detail, the blue dress, the lighted
taper, the halo round the head, and she was loath to leave, even when her
father came to the door, and her mother said gently: