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in a vehement burst of thanksgiving. Then he approached the sculptured figure and addressed it passionately, as though it were a living thing, as though it were Constanza herself!

A step behind him interrupted his rhapsody. The judge had returned. His face was very grave.

"Young man," he asked, abruptly, "who posed for that statue?"

Andrea started, but did not reply.

"Who was your model?" inquired the judge in a still harsher tone.

Andrea hesitated, then stammered out with undisguised confusion, "Is it always needful to have a model? An ideal work, methinks, might"—

"Do not trifle with me!" rejoined his questioner, in an authoritative tone. "This is no ideal work. You had a model, and that model was Constanza, only daughter of the Duke ———. Confess it."

Andrea's look of consternation was an unmistakable answer.

"It is well that you do not attempt to deny the fact. The likeness is so striking that it would be impossible for it not to be recognized at a glance. If this statue should appear at the exhibition, all who have ever beheld Constanza, will recognize it. as her faithful counterpart. Have you thought of the consequences of such a revelation? It will be known that she came here in secret; that she sat as your model; that love for you could alone have