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THE LAST OF THE VALERII.
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buried his head in her lap. I departed as the Count had come in, on tiptoe.
He never became, if you will, a thoroughly modern man; but one day, years after, when a visitor to whom he was showing his cabinet became inquisitive as to a marble hand, suspended in one of its inner recesses, he looked grave and turned the lock on it. "It is the hand of a beautiful creature," he said, "whom I once greatly admired."
"Ah,—a Roman?" said the gentleman, with a smirk.
"A Greek," said the Count, with a frown.