The sunlight was warm this day; it lay deliciously still and calm upon the ruins.

One old woman sat knitting where twenty-five thousand persons once gazed down in fierce excitement on the fights of men and lions.

Coming back, we were refreshed all through the streets by the sight of the women of Arles.

They answered to their reputation for beauty; tall, erect, and noble, with high and dignified features, and a full, earnest gaze of the eye, they looked as if the Eagle still waved its wings over their city.

Even the very old women still have a degree of beauty, because when the colors are all faded, and the skin wrinkled, the face retains this dignity of outline.