told Angelo to take up his bundle, and leading him by the other hand, he struck down a path amongst the rocks, with which he seemed quite familiar.

The curé and Madame Molé returned to the house, which was very sad and lonely for many weeks after Angelo's departure. But after some time they received tidings that he and the painter had arrived safely at Rome. After this they heard nothing more for a long while. In those days letters did not travel readily; but the curé never failed to remember him in his prayers daily.

CHAPTER III.

THE painter had left his servants and luggage at a town a few leagues distant; for although he came alone, and on foot to the curé, he travelled like a person of distinction. Their journey lasted several days; and Angelo was so bewildered by the succession of strange objects, that he scarcely knew whether he were awake or dreaming. The very food was different to what he had ever tasted before. At last they arrived in Rome, and halted before the gates of the courtyard of a large mansion. It was here where the painter dwelt. The domestics came out to receive their master; he turned to Angelo, and led him by the hand into the house, that his people might understand they were to treat him well. He spoke a few words to an

elderly, grey-haired man, who seemed the head servant, and he walked before them across the hall paved with marble. He threw open the door of a small room, which was furnished with a little bed, a table, and a few chairs; a curiously carved oak chest stood in one corner, and a picture representing our Saviour as a little child standing at his mother's knee, hung upon the wall. A large, brass lamp was fastened to a pulley in the ceiling, so that it could be raised or lowered at pleasure. The walls were whitewashed, and the window was some height from the ground. The floor was composed of red, glazed tiles, instead of boards.

"This is to be your own room, Angelo," said the painter, kindly; "you are at home here. You would do well to go to rest, after your journey. Pietro shall bring your supper, and to-morrow, I will introduce you to your companions. You are at the entrance of your career in the world, and I pray God to have you in His holy keeping." He lifted his cap reverently as he spoke these last words; then, saluting Angelo, he flung his mantle over his shoulder, and strode out of the room.

F

Angelo was left standing alone in the middle of the floor, feeling even more lonely that he had done in the Pine Forest. All the home-sickness, that had been distracted by the constant change of the last few days, came back with a dead weight upon his heart, and he leaned his head against the side of his bed, and began to cry bitterly.

A good-natured-looking serving-man brought in his supper, and lighted the lamp; but Angelo was too miserable to eat, and only turned his face away from the light. The servant, whose name was Pietro, tried to comfort him, but Angelo's tears having once begun to flow, were not to be assuaged, and he at last sobbed himself to sleep. The next morning, the painter sent for Angelo to his own room to breakfast with him; and, as they sat at breakfast, he told Angelo how the curé had been good to him many years ago, when he fell ill of a fever in the village. He was then quite a stranger, and very poor, and was travelling on foot to Rome, to learn to be a painter. He then talked to Angelo about Madame Molé, and about different people in the village, whom Angelo knew as grave middleaged men, but whom the painter recollected as quite

young men. Angelo had not cared much about them when he was at home, and he was quite sur

prised that he felt

a strange country.

so glad to hear about them in

The painter encouraged him to talk about himself, and to tell all he could recollect of his grandmother and his old home at Sallenches. Angelo grew light-hearted as he talked, and no longer felt so lonely.

"God has been very gracious to you, my son, said the painter, when Angelo was silent; "let your thankfulness to Him be shewn forth in your life. Pray to Him to guard you in temptation, as you have prayed to Him in bodily danger. But now it is time for work; follow me."

They rose from table, and Angelo followed the painter along a gallery, at the end of which hung a heavy curtain, which the painter drew aside, and they found themselves in a spacious hall, where a number of young men were at work, laughing and talking among themselves. At the entrance of the painter, they fell silent, and came forward to welcome their master, whose hand they respectfully kissed. The hall was filled with many strange and beautiful things, the like of which Angelo had never