Finally he took them to see under his own special guidance the greatest picture in the world—Raphael's Transfiguration, that mighty masterpiece, so well known, and never to be forgotten. He explained the full meaning of the picture, Christ in Glory, the awed and terrified disciples, the epileptic boy. He described how, when Raphael died, the picture was scarcely finished, but it was hung over his death-bed as he lay in state, and was carried in his funeral procession.
Finally he recited those great lines of Rogers:
"And when all beheld
Him where he lay, how changed from yesterday—
Him in that hour cut off, and at his head
His last great work;—when entering in, they look'd,
Now on the dead, then on that masterpiece—
Now on his face, lifeless and colourless,
Then on those forms divine that lived and breathed,
And would live on for ages—all were moved,
And sighs burst forth and loudest lamentations."
CHAPTER XXVII. THE LEARNING OF LIFE'S LESSON.
Henrietta, when she first returned to the Hotel, had no idea of being disobedient. On the contrary, she thought she would partake of an enormous lunch and then get hold of some novel and enjoy herself. She could manage to forget Rome and its abominations for the time being, but alas for Henrietta, she was a wonderfully restless being. She ate ravenously after Victorine told her that déjeuner was waiting, then she went up to her room, and absolutely and completely forgetting her solemn promise to step-daddy and Maureen, she prepared to go out on her own account.
The Coliseum fascinated her, for she had a great natural love for horrors. She thought if she could only get there by herself she could imagine the whole scene when the lions sprang out upon the Christians and tore them to pieces. She didn't so much mind about the gladiators, but she thought it would be lovely to see a Christian like Dinah torn to bits. She could entertain herself very well for an hour or two at the Coliseum. She accordingly put on a bright-red frock, which almost toned with her hair, and which she had purchased secretly a day or two ago. Although cold in England, it was balmy and delightful in Rome. The air was like nectar and was very rousing to the spirit. She ruffled up her hair more than ever and perched upon its mass of curls a small black velvet cap with a long red feather. Her eyes were bright with excitement.
She loved people to stare at her. She always stared back with bold defiance. If they were nice people she smiled to them. If they were the reverse she frowned, but in the company of step-daddy and Dominic and Maureen and Daisy she did not dare to give way to these queer freaks of her nature.
Finally, she put her purse into her pocket. She had plenty of money, mostly in Italian lire, which she greatly disliked because it looked dirty. Nevertheless the dirty lire could buy things and she meant to have a feast all by herself in the Coliseum. She went to a shop where sweetmeats, cakes, and chocolates of all sorts abounded, but first she twisted round her neck a long and very valuable gold chain, which had belonged to her mother. The late Mrs. O'Brien had many jewels, which were kept reverently by the Rector for her daughters when they came of age. He had allowed each girl, however, to take a memento of their mother away with them when they went to school.