THE STORY OF A PICTURE.

bright smile, that dispelled such recollections as quickly
as they had arisen-" All the past, seems indeed dark
and weary, Pietro, compared to the happiness that lies
before us still."
 They turned and walked slowly on. Each was
occupied in thinking of the great changes that had
taken place since last they were there together, To
the mind of Pietro arose a long series of years spent
in misery and labour; but he felt that labour had re-
ceived far more than its reward, for but for that paint-
ing with which he had parted so reluctantly, he would
not have met Maria again. And, as she walked on
beside him, her thoughts went back through the years
that had passed since their parting long ago; and she
almost smiled at her vivid recollection of two evenings
beyond all the rest. It seemed to her but a few days
since she delighted in the thought that she was Pietro's
pupil, and that she was the only one who knew his
secret and his hope; and now they were again in the
same broad meadows, the hope realized, the peasant
boy an artist, the child, who shared his secret then, the
sharer of his future joys or sorrows, as time might
bring them.
 Whilst they were thus dwelling upon the past, they
had come to a spot well remembered by both; they
were standing by a large mossy stone behind the
copse: Pietro was the first to perceive that they had
reached it, and, taking Maria's hand, he woke her
from her reverie, by saying-
 "Are you going to pass by this place, Maria?
Surely you remember it."
 She looked around her with a happy smile, as she
exclaimed-" This is the very spot, Pietro. Let us
sit here and rest, as we used to rest here then."
 "'And there are my elms," said the artist, "as