- pernal figure of the glorious Christ was aerially
poised,—one Hand was extended, and to this a Woman clung—a woman with a beautiful face made piteous in its beauty by long grief and patient endurance. In her other arm she held a sleeping child—and mother and child were linked together by a garland of flowers partially broken and faded. Her entreating attitude,—the sleeping child's helplessness—her worn face,—the perishing roses of earth's hope and joy,—all expressed their meaning simply yet tragically; and as the Divine Hand supported and drew her up out of the universal chaos below, the hope of a new world, a better world, a wiser world, a holier world, seemed to be distantly conveyed. But the eyes of the Christ were full of reproach, and were bent on the Representative of St. Peter binding the laurel-crowned youth, and dragging him into darkness,—and the words written across the golden mount of the picture, in clear black letters, seemed to be actually spoken aloud from the vivid color and movement of the painting. 'Many in that day will call upon Me and say, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name, and in Thy name cast out devils, and done many wonderful works?'
"'Then will I say to them, I never knew you! Depart from Me all ye that work iniquity!'"
And what of Angela and Florian? Painter and
sweetheart regard the work. Varillo's first remark
is, "Did you do it all yourself?" That is the first
verbal stab. Others follow, killing the joy of
Angela. And the verbal stabs are but the prelude
to one with steel; for Varillo, maddened by jealousy,
determines to kill Angela and then to per-
