Leaving the question unanswered,--as he must needs do, until time and experience should come, to his help,--Bergan turned anew to the contemplation of the Mercury; which seemed to grow in beauty and power, as he continued to look. It would be hard to say how much of this pleasurable effect was due to the inherent charm of the work, and how much to the spell shed from the rapt face and softly illuminated eyes of the artist. Many a work that we look upon but coldly, would quickly find its way to our hearts, if we knew enough of its history and its author, to give us the clue to its subtler spirit and aim; while those which we love without such knowledge, would, by its help, be transfigured--glorified. If we could stand with Michael Angelo before his "Moses," or with Guido before his triumphant "Archangel," what new lights of interpretation would be lit for us at the eyes and lips of those great masters! Nor must it be said that the spectator may be dazzled by the artist's enthusiasm into awarding the work higher praise than a cooler judgment would sanction. For just here lies the truth which is too often overlooked in criticism, both of literature and art. If the critic be not in sympathy with the worker,--if he do not, in some measure, behold the work through his eyes,--if he cannot discern what was attempted as well as what is attained,--then his eyes will be partially holden both from the beauties and the faults of the work. For nothing, in life or art, was meant to be looked at by itself. Everything is related to something else; each helps all. The moment wherein the spectator's mood and the artist's work make sweet harmony, is the moment of correct appreciation. If Bergan did not understand what an illumination the presence of Miss Lyte threw over her work, he was fully conscious that her work shed a transfiguring light over her. The face under the whispering oak boughs was not the same as this in the studio. That had been simply bright and mobile, with a spice of _espiéglerie_; this was all alight and astir with genius. Miss Lyte's very hand partook of the transformation. Bergan had happened to notice its symmetrical shape, as revealed by a careless gesture, at their first meeting; but he now decided that it was not so much its beauty which had attracted his attention, as a certain peculiarity of delicate energy and adroitness, which ought of itself to have suggested its artistic skill. Bergan's eye fell next on the pedestal of the Mercury, improvised by turning up on end the packing-box in which it had arrived. The lid lay on the floor, in two pieces, and was surmounted by a sturdy-looking hammer and chisel. Bergan's glance went back to that slender hand, with an unconscious question in it; which Astra was quick to understand.