IN A WINTER CITY. 103
They rambled over the great buUding first,
with its vast windows showing the wide laud-
scape of mountain and plain, and far away the
golden domes and airy spires of the city shining
through a soft mist of olive trees. The glory of
this house was gone, but it was beautiful still
with the sweet clear sunUght streaming through
its innumerable chambers, and touching the soft
hues of frescoed waUs that had grown faded
with age, but had been painted by SpineUo, by
Francia, by the great Frate, and by a host whose
names were lost, of earnest workers, and men
with whom art had been religion.
It was all dim and worn and grey with the
passage of time; but it was harmonious, ma¬
jestic, tranquU. It was like the close of a great
Ufe withdrawn from the world into a cloistered
soUtude and content to be alone with its God.
"Do not wish for riches," said the Lady
HUda to him, as he said something to her of it.
" If you had riches you would desecrate this ; you
woiUd * restore' it, you would ' embelUsh' it,
you would ruin it."
He smUed a Uttle sadly.