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Turnbull, Mrs. Lawrence

"A Golden Book of Venice"


The vision of those youthful faces made it easy to forget the outward
contrast--a mere accident of birth.
Girolamo Magagnati had promised himself that he would be a true knight
to his beloved child; he would question and prove this bold young noble
who claimed, with such presumption, so great a prize--not humbly suing,
as he should have done; he would make him tremble and wait; he should
learn that his daughter was not to be the more easily won because she
was of the people! Then, with the fullness of his vow upon him, and with
a heart loving indeed, but brave as proud, he had raised his eyes and
beheld a vision in which neither nobles nor people held part--only a
maiden, glorified by her love and trust; and a lover--prince or peasant
it mattered not--for on his face it was luminously written that in all
the world there was for him none other than she. And the vision, like an
apprehension of Truth--rare and very beautiful--conquered Girolamo,
because he was strong enough to yield.
"It is but a moment that I have for this dearest claim of the day," said
Marcantonio Giustiniani, turning to the older man with winning courtesy;
"and sooner should I have come to the father of Marina to crave the
grace I cannot do without, but that she bade me tarry.


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