“If we remained till Carnival, you might have that pleasure,” replied Mrs. Delano; “for everybody masquerades as they like at that time.  But I imagine you would hardly fancy my appearance in scarlet jacket, with laced sleeves, big coral necklace, and long ear-rings, like that old Contadina we met riding on a donkey.”

Flora laughed.  “To think of Mamita Lila in such costume!” exclaimed she.  “The old Contadina would make a charming picture; but a picture of the Campagna, sleepy with purple haze, would be more like you.”

“Am I then so sleepy?” inquired her friend.

“O, no, not sleepy.  You know I don’t mean that.  But so quiet; and always with some sort of violet or lilac cloud for a dress.  But here comes Carlina to call us to breakfast,” said she, as she laid down her crayon, and drummed the saltarello on her picture while she paused a moment to look at it.

As Mrs. Delano wished to write letters, and Flora expected a teacher in drawing, it was decided that they should remain at home until the hour arrived for visiting the Vatican.  “We have been about sight-seeing so much,” said Mrs. Delano, “that I think it will be pleasant to have a quiet day.”  Flora assented; but as Mrs. Delano wrote, she could not help smiling at her ideas of quietude.  Sometimes rapid thumps on the tambourine might be heard, indicating that the saltarello was again in rehearsal.  If a piffero strolled through the street, the monotonous drone of his bagpipe was reproduced in most comical imitation; and anon there was a gush of bird-songs, as if a whole aviary were in the vicinity.  Indeed, no half-hour passed without audible indication that the little recluse was in merry mood.

At the appointed time Mr. Green came to conduct them to the Vatican.  They ascended the wide slopes, and passed through open courts into long passages lined with statues, and very dimly lighted with occasional lamps.  Here and there a marble figure was half revealed, and looked so spectral in the gloaming that they felt as if they were entering the world of spirits.  Several members of the party preceded them, and all seemed to feel the hushing influence, for they passed on in silence, and stepped softly as they entered the great Palace of Art.  The torch-bearers were soon in readiness to illuminate the statues, which they did by holding a covered light over each, making it stand out alone in the surrounding darkness, with very striking effects of light and shadow.  Flora, who was crouched on a low seat by the side of Mrs. Delano, gazed with a reverent, half-afraid feeling on the thoughtful, majestic looking Minerva Medica.  When the graceful vision of Venus Anadyomene was revealed, she pressed her friend’s hand, and the pressure was returned.  But when the light was held over a beautiful Cupid, the face looked out from the gloom with such an earnest, childlike expression, that she forgot the presence of strangers, and impulsively exclaimed, “O Mamita, how lovely!”