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176 ARIADNE.months after the day thatIhad led her throughthe Chiaramonti Gallery to Hermes — whenIhad gone to ask for her, as never a day passedbutIdid do, and Ersilia also, she opened thedoor of her lofty studio and came down a fewof the stone stairs tomy side." Come," she said to me; and then Iknewthat she had foundher strength and compassedsome greatlabour.The studio was a wide and lofty place, withwaUs and floor of stone, and narrow windowsthat opened in their centre on a hinge, andthe plants that grew upon the roof hung clownbefore their bars, and the pigeons flew in andoutin the daytime." Look," she said, and led me in and let mestand before the statue she had made, and whichshe had herself cut out from theblock, andshapedin every line,till it stood there,a white and wondrousthing, erect in the sunlight shining fromthe skies, and seemed to live,nay,to leap forthto life as the Apollo does inBelvidere.Itwas the same form that she had made iiithe clay at Venice and at Paris; that is, it was