The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 45, July, 1861 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 311 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 45, July, 1861.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 45, July, 1861 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 311 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 45, July, 1861.

Yet we can see in the hymns of Savonarola, who perfectly represented the attitude of the highest Christian of those times, how perfect might be the love and veneration for departed saints without lapsing into idolatry, and with what an atmosphere of warmth and glory the true belief of the unity of the Church, visible and invisible, could inspire an elevated soul amid the discouragements of an unbelieving and gainsaying world.

Our little Agnes, therefore, when she had spread all her garlands out, seemed really to feel as if the girlish figure that smiled in sacred white from the altar-piece was a dear friend who smiled upon her, and was watching to lead her up the path to heaven.

Pleasantly passed the hours of that day to the girl, and when at evening old Elsie called for her, she wondered that the day had gone so fast.

Old Elsie returned with no inconsiderable triumph from her stand.  The cavalier had been several times during the day past her stall, and once, stopping in a careless way to buy fruit, commented on the absence of her young charge.  This gave Elsie the highest possible idea of her own sagacity and shrewdness, and of the promptitude with which she had taken her measures, so that she was in as good spirits as people commonly are who think they have performed some stroke of generalship.

As the old woman and young girl emerged from the dark-vaulted passage that led them down through the rocks on which the convent stood to the sea at its base, the light of a most glorious sunset burst upon them, in all those strange and magical mysteries of light which any one who has walked that beach of Sorrento at evening will never forget.

Agnes ran along the shore, and amused herself with picking up little morsels of red and black coral, and those fragments of mosaic pavements, blue, red, and green, which the sea is never tired of casting up from the thousands of ancient temples and palaces which have gone to wreck all around these shores.

As she was busy doing this, she suddenly heard the voice of Giulietta behind her.

“So ho, Agnes! where have you been all day?”

“At the Convent,” said Agnes, raising herself from her work, and smiling at Giulietta, in her frank, open way.

“Oh, then you really did take the ring to Saint Agnes?”

“To be sure I did,” said Agnes.

“Simple child!” said Giulietta, laughing; “that wasn’t what he meant you to do with it.  He meant it for you,—­only your grandmother was by.  You never will have any lovers, if she keeps you so tight.”

“I can do without,” said Agnes.

“I could tell you something about this one,” said Giulietta.

“You did tell me something yesterday,” said Agnes.

“But I could tell you some more.  I know he wants to see you again.”

“What for?” said Agnes.

“Simpleton, he’s in love with you.  You never had a lover;—­it’s time you had.”

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 45, July, 1861 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.