She turned back into the hall. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books.
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