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IN A WINTER CITY.

Nicomedia and the guards of Diocletian, above were the heavens opened and the hosts of waiting angels. It was a great theme greatly treated by the great Brescian who, although the pupil of Titian and the rival of Veronese is so little known, save in the cities that lie betwixt the Dolomites and the Apennines.

"It is one of the most beautiful legends that we have, to my thinking," said Della Rocca, when they had studied it minutely and in all lights. "It has been very seldom selected by painters for treatment; one wonders why; perhaps because there is too much human passion in it for a sacred subject."

"Yes," said Lady Hilda, dreamily. "One can never divest oneself of the idea that S. Justina loved him with an earthly love."

"Oh, Hilda! how pagan of you," said the Marchesa del Trasimene, a little aghast.

"Not at all. Why should we doubt it?" said Della Rocca, quickly. "Why should we deny that a pure love would have power against the powers of the world?"

Lady Hilda looked at him, and a great softness