Stop being so
tiresome, and tell me instead what part of the church you want to
see. To take you to it will be a real pleasure."
Now, this was abominably impertinent, and she ought to have been
furious. But it is sometimes as difficult to lose one's temper as
it is difficult at other times to keep it. Lucy could not get
cross. Mr. Emerson was an old man, and surely a girl might humour
him. On the other hand, his son was a young man, and she felt
that a girl ought to be offended with him, or at all events be
offended before him. It was at him that she gazed before
replying.
"I am not touchy, I hope. It is the Giottos that I want to see,
if you will kindly tell me which they are."
The son nodded. With a look of sombre satisfaction, he led the
way to the Peruzzi Chapel. There was a hint of the teacher about
him. She felt like a child in school who had answered a question
rightly.
The chapel was already filled with an earnest congregation, and
out of them rose the voice of a lecturer, directing them how to
worship Giotto, not by tactful valuations, but by the standards
of the spirit.
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