Behind the Princess was a window, looking on to the street, and behind Giraldo was a second door, which led into an inner room. On Giraldo's easel stood the nearly finished picture; Giraldo's eyes were alight both with love and with triumph, as he turned from the Princess to the picture, and from the picture to the Princess again; and she, seeing something of his admiration, said with a blush:
"Is it indeed faithful, signor?" For it seemed even to herself a marvellously lovely picture.
"No, madame," answered he. "For my imperfect hand cannot be faithful to perfection."
"I pray you, do not flatter me. Have you indeed shewn every fault of my face?"
"If there be a fault in your face, madame, there it is also in my picture," said Giraldo.
The Princess was silent for a moment, then she said:
"It is better, is it not, than the picture you painted for the King of Glottenberg?"
Giraldo painted a stroke or two before he answered carelessly:
"Indeed, madame, it is more faithful
