"Finished," murmured the girl, her head against his arm. "When?"
"By midsummer, Graziosa. Is the time so long to thee too?"
"I am so happy, Ambrogio, it does not seem possible I could be happier; still, I think I shall be when thy altar-piece is finished."
Ambrogio looked at his painting longingly.
"If I could only stay," he said, and kissed her again.
"Surely it is still early, even for St. Joseph?" said Agnolo.
Ambrogio glanced out into the dusky street, where several gayly attired horsemen were riding.
"The Prior begged my early return," he said. "And so farewell, my father, for a little while, farewell!"
"Well, if it must be, it must," said Vistarnini cheerfully, "thou wilt never fail for lack of industry. Still, Graziosa, even if thy lover goes, there is something left to amuse us. This evening the nobles ride in to attend the feast Visconti gives to-night to the French Duke. 'Twill be a noble feast, yet I doubt if the Lady Valentine be as happy as thou art, Graziosa."
But his daughter returned no answer, for she was not there, but at the top of the dark stairway: she was saying farewell to her betrothed; and when Agnolo turned from the window, she was leaning on his arm across the courtyard, for a last word at the gate.