If the villa life of Italy might prove a severe trial of temper and spirits to most persons, to young Gerald, trained in all the asceticism of a convent, it was a perfect paradise. The wild and far-spreading landscape imparted a glorious sense of liberty, which grew with each day's enjoyment of it. It was a land of mountain and forest--those deep, dark woods of chestnut-trees traversed with the clear and rapid rivulets so common in the Roman states; with here and there, at rare intervals, the solitary hut of a charcoal-burner-in these vast solitudes, silent as the great savannas of the South, he passed his days. Now, roaming in search of game; now, dreamily lying, book in hand, beside a river's bank, or strolling listlessly along, tasting, in the very waywardness of an untrammelled will, an ecstasy only known to those who have felt captivity.

Though there were several young people in the family of the Intendente, Gerald had no companionship with any of them: the boys were boorish, uneducated, and coarseminded; and the girls, with one exception, were little better. Ninetta, it is true, was gentler: her voice was soft, and her silky hair, and soft, dark eyes, had a strange, subduing influence about them; but even she was far from that ideal his imagination

VOL LI. NO. CCCIII.

had pictured, nor could he, by all his persuasions, induce her to share his raptures for Ariosto, or the still more passionate delight that Petrarch gave him. He was just opening that period of youth when the heart yearns for some object of affectionsome centre around which its own hopes and fears-its wishes and aspirations, may revolve. It is wonderful how much imagination contributes in such cases, supplying graces and attractions where nature has been a niggard, and giving to the veriest commonplace character traits of distinctive charm.

Ninetta was quite pretty enough for all this, but she was no more. Without a particle of education, she had never raised her mind beyond the commonest daily cares; and what with the vines, the olives, the chestnuts, the festivals of the church, and little family gatherings, her life had its sphere of duties so full as to leave no time for the love-sick wanderings of an idle boy.

If she was disposed to admire him when, in fits of wild energy, he would pass nights and days in chase of the wild boar, or follow the track of a wolf, with the steadfast tenacity of a hound, she cared little for his intervals of dreamy fancy, nor lent any sympathy to joys or sorrows which had no basis in reality; and when

17*

her indifference had gone so far as to offend him, she would gently smile and say: Never mind, Gerald; the Contessina will come one of these days, and she'll be charmed with all these 'moonings."" Whether piqued by the tone of this commiseration, or careless as to its meaning, he never thought of asking who the Contessina might be; until, one morning, a showily-dressed courier arrived at the villa, to announce that, ere the end of the week the Cardinal's niece and her gouvernante were to arrive, and remain for, probably, several weeks there.

It was two years since her last visit, and great was the commotion to prepare a suitable reception for her. Safons that had been carefully closed till now, were immediately opened, and all the costly furniture uncovered. Within doors and without the work of preparation went briskly on. Troops of labourers were employed in the grounds and the gardens. Fresh parterres of flowers were planted beneath the windows; fountains long dried up were taught to play, and jets of many a fantastic kind threw their sportive showers on the grass.

Gerald took immense interest in all these details, to which his natural taste imparted many a happy suggestion. By his advice the statues were arranged in suitable spots, and a hundred little devices of ingenuity came from his quick intelligence. "The Contessina will be delighted with this! How she will love that!" were exclamations that rewarded him for every fresh exertion; and, doubtless, he had fashioned to his own heart a Contessina, for he never asked a question, nor made one single inquiry about her, the real one. As little was he prepared for the great cortège which preceded her coming-troops of servants; saddle-horses; fourgons of luggage; even furniture kept pouring in, till the villa-so tranquil and almost deserted in its appearance became like some vast and popular hotel. There was something almost regal in the state and preparation that went forward; and when, at the close of a long summer day, two mounted couriers dashed up to the door, all heated and dustcovered, quickly followed by two heavy coaches, with scarlet panels, Gerald's curiosity at length got the upper-hand, and he stole to a window,

to watch the descent of her for whom all these cares had been provided. What was his astonishment to see a little girl, apparently younger than himself, spring lightly to the ground, and, after a brief gesture of acknowledgment to the welcome tendered her, pass into the house! He had seen enough, however, to remark that her long and beautiful hair was almost golden in tint, and that her eyes-whatever their colour-were large and lustrous. He had dwelt with more pleasure on these traits, had he not marked, in the haughty gesture she vouchsafed, and the proud carriage of her head, what he, not unfairly, ascribed to a character imperious and exacting-almost insolent, indeed, in its requirement of respect.

Guglia Ridolfi was, however, the greatest heiress in the Roman States, she was the niece of a cardinal, the grand-daughter of a grandee of Spain, and more than all-had been taught to reflect on these facts from the earliest years of her infancy. It had been for years the policy of the Cardinal to increase the prestige of her position by every means in his power; and they who knew the ambitious nature of the man, could easily see how, in the great game he played, his own future aggrandizement was as much included as was her elevation. Left without a father or mother when a mere infant, she had been confided to the care of her uncle. Surrounded with teachers of every kind, she only learned what and when she pleased; her education being, in fact, the result of certain impulses, which swayed her from time to time. As she was gifted with great quickness, however, and a remarkable memory, she seemed to make the most astonishing progress, and her fame as a linguist, and her reputation for accomplishments, were the talk of Rome.

She had all the waywardness, caprice, and instability such a discipline might be supposed to produce, and so completely sated with amusement and pleasure was she, that now, as a mere child, or little more, she actually pined away, from sheer ennui of life. A momentary change of place afforded her a slight, passing satisfaction, and so she had come down to Orvieto, to stay some time, and persuade herself, if she could, that she enjoyed it. Strange enough, nothing

in either her general appearance or her gestures betrayed this weariness of the world her eyes were bright, her look animated, her step active. It was only when watching her closely might be seen how estranged her thoughts were from what seemed to occupy them; and how, at times, a low, faint sigh would escape her, even when she was apparently occupied and interested.

It was rumoured that these very traits of her disposition were what had attached her uncle so fondly to her, and that he recognized in them the indications of a blood and a race which had always made their way in life, subjecting others to their rule, and using them as mere tools for their own advancement. One thing was certain he curbed her in nothing; every wild weed of her heart grew up in all its own luxuriance, and she was the ideal of imperiousness and self-will.

Either from caprice or settled purpose--it were hard to say which the Cardinal affected to submit his own plans to her, and consult her about many things which were clearly beyond the sphere of either her years or her knowledge, but to which her replies gave him the sort of guidance that gamblers are wont to accept for the accidents of play; and often and often had "Da Guglia's" counsels decided him when his mind was wavering between two resolves. Whether from perceiving the ascendancy she thus obtained over her uncle's mind, or that really, to her pleasure-sick heart, these sterner themes gave her a gleam of interest, but gradually did she turn her thoughts to the great events of the day, and only listened with eagerness to subjects of state craft and intrigue.

Such was she to whose morning levée Gerald was summoned on the day after her arrival, when in a sort of vassalage the Intendente, followed by his family and the villagers, were admitted to pay this homage. It was not without a certain compulsion Gerald yielded to this customary act of deference; nor was his compliance more gracefully accorded when he learned that he was to be supposed to be a member of the steward's family, since if known to be a stranger,it was almost certain the Contessina would not suffer him to remain there.

It solved much of his difficulty to be told, that in all likelihood she would never notice nor remark him. She rarely did more than listen to the few words of routine gratulation the Intendente spoke, and with a slight nod of her head intimate that they might retire. "Then, why am I needed at all? Why can't this ceremony go on without me?" cried he half peevishly.

"Because, if she were afterwards to see you about the grounds, she is quite capable of remembering that you had not presented yourself on her arrival. She forgets nothing."

"That's true," broke in the Intendente. "It was but the last time she came here she remarked that the lace border of my hat was torn, and said to me, 'Signor Maurizio, you must have lazy daughters, for I saw that piece of gold braid torn, as it is now, on the last two visits I made here.""

Gerald turned away in ill-humour, for he was vexed at what he could not but feel an act of servitude required of him. There is a strange mystery in that atmosphere of deference which arises from the united submission of many to one whom they would honour and reverence. The most stubborn asserter of equality has not failed to own this, as he has stood amongst the crowd before a throne. The sentiment of homage is quickly contagious, and few there are who can bar their hearts against the feelings of that homage which fills every breast about him. Gerald experienced this as he found himself moving slowly along in the procession towards the chamber where the Contessina held her court. The splendid suite of rooms, filled with objects of art, the massive candelabra of gilded bronze, the costly tables of malachite and agate, all obtained their full share of admiration from the simple villagers, whose whispered words almost savoured of worship, till awe-stricken, they found themselves in a magnificent chamber, hung with pictures from floor to ceiling. In a deep window recess, from which a vast view opened over mountain and forest, the Contessina was standing, book in hand, but gazing listlessly on the landscape, and never noticing in the slightest that dense throng which now gathered in the lower part of the room.