It is a romance book. Caterina meanwhile, in the simple straight blue robe of a young Venetian maiden, her dimpled throat encircled with the pearls that had been the ransom of a kingdom, stood turning her miniature from side to side, catching the sunlight on the jewels and the face, with the pleasure of a child in a new and splendid toy--for it was all beautiful together. 'He is charming--charming, my King!" she repeated. But a shadow had crept into her mother's eyes. 'It is a face that an artist might paint for his pleasure', she said with hesitation, as if seeking expression for some vague fear that haunted her; 'I pray that he may make thee happy, carina; that he may be good and--and--noble'.