220 IN A WINTER CITY,
certainly, without having seen your chapel. Au
" If you do leave, Madame, I follow!—^to paiut
He shut the carriage-door, and stood bare¬
headed in the wintry wind as the impatient horses
dashed away. When it had disappeared he put
his hat on, lighted a cigar, and strolled to his own
" She wiU not go to Paris," he said to himself.
He knew women well.
In an hour and a half she arrived at his own
gates, bringing the Princess Olga with her.
She saw the grand old garden, the mighty
staircases, the courts that once held troops of
armed men; she saw his own rooms, with thefr
tapestries that Flemish John Eosts had had the
doing of so many centuries before; she saw the
exquisite dim silent chapel, whose waUs, painted
by the Memmi in one portion and continued by
Masaccio, were amongst the famous things of the
city. She was moved and saddened; softened
too ; after aU, the decay of a great race has an un¬
utterable pathos; it will touch even a vulgar mind;