"Our sculptors cannot get ahead of those old fellows," said Uncle Jim, "though I can't give the same praise to their painters." And Irma agreed with him, as she looked at the Pompeian frescoes.
But neither paintings nor sculptures interested her as did the household utensils, the ornaments, and the jewels from Pompeii and Herculaneum.
"Designers of jewelry and other beautiful things to-day get some of their best ideas from these treasures of Pompeii," explained Uncle Jim, after Irma had told him that she had seen Gertrude's mother wear a bracelet the counterpart of one they were looking at.
Yet as they passed from case to case, and from room to room, Irma thought less of the beauty, or even of the usefulness of these things, than of the unhappy people to whom they had belonged who had been buried under the hot ashes of Vesuvius. In glass vessels she saw grains and fruits that the lava had preserved from decay, and in the cases there were loaves of much the same appearance as when the baker took them from the oven. These homely things brought the sufferings of the Pompeians much nearer than did the great treasure chests, or some of the more valuable objects in the collection.
"I feel as if I had been at a funeral," she murmured to Aunt Caroline, and she was not sorry that the closing hour had come.
"I'll show you something more cheerful to-morrow," suggested Marion. "They have the most wonderful Aquarium here. It can't be better than ours in New York, even if it is more famous. So I wish you would come with me to-morrow and tell me what you think."
"But I have never seen the New York Aquarium," ventured Irma.
"Then you must believe what I tell you about it."