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270 crowded with all that marked his character and his taste. It was not large, but of unusual height, and fitted up with great costliness. The bookcases were ebony, inlaid with green morocco, and so were the tables, and the curtains were of crimson velvet. They were closely drawn, but you could hear a gentle rain beating against the window panes. There were few pictures, but each a masterpiece. A sunny landscape of Claude Lorraine's, contrasted the stormy darkness of one by Salvator Rosa: while the spiritual loveliness of a "Madonna," by Guido, was opposed to the passionate beauty of a "Fornarini," by Raphael. Only one modern picture was admitted, and that was a likeness of Constance, painted under her father's especial instructions. It was not taken in the dress of the time; but a loose white robe was gathered in with a few simple folds at the waist. The long hair of the palest gold was just parted on the forehead, and then fell unbound to the waist. Not an ornament of any kind was introduced, only one white thin hand held a bunch of lilies. The likeness was