"See here," she added, opening a velvet case, "here is something that I know you noticed, for I read what you thought of it."
It was an exquisite copy of that rarest little gem of Fra Angelico's painting, "The Death-Bed of the Virgin Mary,"—in time past the theme of some of my verses, which Miss Van Arsdel thus graciously recalled.
"Do you know," she said, "the only drawback when one reads poems that exactly express what one would like to say, is that it makes us envious; one thinks, why couldn't I have said it thus?"
"Miss Van Arsdel," said I, "do you remember the lines of Longfellow: 'I shot an arrow through the air?'"
"What are they?" she said.
I repeated:
"I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.