Nothing went well , for certain neglected home-duties had dogged her into town , and now worried her more than dust , or heat , or the ceaseless clatter of tongues . Tom , Dick , and Harry 's unmended hose persisted in dancing a spectral jig before her mental eye , mother 's querulous complaints spoilt the song she hummed to cheer herself , and little May 's wistful face put the goddess of beauty entirely out of countenance . `` It 's no use ; I ca n't work till the clay is wet again . Where is Giovanni ? '' she asked , throwing down her tools with a petulant gesture and a dejected air . `` He is probably playing truant in the empty upper rooms , as usual . I ca n't wait for him any longer , so I 'm doing his work myself , '' answered Miss Dickenson , who was tenderly winding a wet bandage round her Juno 's face , one side of which was so much plumper than the other that it looked as if the Queen of Olympus was being hydropathically treated for a severe fit of ague . `` I 'll go and find the little scamp ; a run will do me good ; so will a breath of air and a view of the park from the upper windows . '' Doffing her apron , Psyche strolled away up an unfrequented staircase to the empty apartments , which seemed to be too high even for the lovers of High Art . On the western side they were shady and cool , and , leaning from one of the windows , Psyche watched the feathery tree-tops ruffled by the balmy wind , that brought spring odors from the hills , lying green and sunny far away . Silence and solitude were such pleasant companions that the girl forgot herself , till a shrill whistle disturbed her day-dreams , and reminded her what she came for . Following the sound she found the little Italian errand-boy busily uncovering a clay model which stood in the middle of a scantily furnished room near by . `` He is not here ; come and look ; it is greatly beautiful , '' cried Giovanni , beckoning with an air of importance . Psyche did look and speedily forgot both her errand and herself . It was the figure of a man , standing erect , and looking straight before him with a wonderfully lifelike expression . It was neither a mythological nor a historical character , Psyche thought , and was glad of it , being tired to death of gods and heroes . She soon ceased to wonder what it was , feeling only the indescribable charm of something higher than beauty . Small as her knowledge was , she could see and enjoy the power visible in every part of it ; the accurate anatomy of the vigorous limbs , the grace of the pose , the strength and spirit in the countenance , clay though it was . A majestic figure , but the spell lay in the face , which , while it suggested the divine , was full of human truth and tenderness , for pain and passion seemed to have passed over it , and a humility half pathetic , a courage half heroic seemed to have been born from some great loss or woe . How long she stood there Psyche did not know .
XXXXX went away unseen , to fill his water-pail , and in the silence she just stood and looked .
Dick Dickenson Giovanni Harry Italian Juno Olympus Tom day-dreams home-duties