“And yet,” said Mr. Rosenberg, “Gothic buildings often combined colour with form. In northern countries, either from stricter simplicity of taste, or on account of the climate, the absence of colours is usual, and sculpture takes their place; but in the south, beside the painted ceilings, mosaics, and frescoes inside, the outsides of the churches were ornamented with coloured marble. It is a mistake to suppose that the Gothic and Byzantine architecture refused the assistance of colours; on the contrary, the most brilliant and strongly contrasted painting is common. To begin with the windows——” “Rather let us dispense with them altogether,” said his wife, moving towards the door. “I have no objection,” said Mr. Rosenberg, turning round to look back into the church, “for they do not suit the grey monotony of the walls, and the gaudy colours playing so uncertainly on the cold surface have something, to me, altogether disharmonious. In almost all the old cathedrals,” he added, “the walls and pillars were formerly gorgeously painted; and it is only in the later centuries that, either from want of taste or poverty, they have been whitewashed.” “I was not aware of that,” said Hamilton. “It cannot, however, make me change my ideas all at once. A Gothic church is always handsome, with its light pillars and pointed steeple and windows. I have never travelled in southern countries, and my taste for bright colours has not yet been made. Since I have been in Munich, I have begun merely to tolerate them by degrees; and for this reason paintings of the Middle Ages do not please me, no matter how celebrated they may be. I cannot endure the bright red and blue draperies, or the terribly shining gold backgrounds which are so common in those pictures. I dare say it is great want of taste on my part, but the hard outlines appear to be unnatural, and the glaring colours offensive.” “Very probably, when viewed deliberately in a picture-gallery; but exactly these pictures were intended for churches, and churches with painted walls. You must allow that duller colours would have appeared weak, or would have been completely lost, when submitted to the glowing stream of light which would have fallen on them from windows of blue, red, and amber-coloured glass!” “All this never occurred to me,” said Hamilton; “but I suspect, as you so warmly defend these bright colours, that you have seen and admired them in more southern climes. Have you been in Italy?” “Many years,” he replied, while a sudden flush passed across his face. “Papa has been in Spain and in Greece too,” said Hildegarde. “And yet you never speak of your travels!” exclaimed Hamilton, surprised. “Because I regret them,” said Mr. Rosenberg, sorrowfully. “I did not travel expensively, and yet I wasted my whole patrimony and the best years of my life in foreign countries. I know not what I should have become at last, had I not by chance met Hildegarde’s mother in Tyrol.”