the remotest branches, were much in evidence, refurbished,
and coming in solemn state to testify their approval of an alliance so
honorable to their house, with many wise worldly maxims and pious thanks
to the Madonna.

There was no quiet anywhere within the palazzo, save deep down in the
heart of the Lady Fiorenza, who had never been one with her family in
worldly ambitions; and far below the giddy current of the day's
happenings ran the ceaseless flow of the mother's wordless prayer,
enfolding her child--pleading that that which was to come to her should
make and keep her noble.

Resistance would have been vain, if only because she stood alone in her
family circle; but the decision of the Senate was supreme--unquestionable
and irrevocable; she stood alone indeed with only prayer to help her, and
a great faith that because of it her child would be saved in the path of
danger from which her love might not hold her feet. And so the day of the
Betrothal dawned.

* * * * *

Ah, how the bells were ringing--Madre Beata! For such a _festa_ as never
had been in Venice! The hearts of the happy people throbbed to their
rhythm, while each gave something to the splendor of the day--were it
but the color of a mantle, or the grace of a jubilant motion, or the
radiance of a beaming face--there was no _festa_ in Venice of which the
people had not its part.

They had been gathering since earliest dawn in the Piazza San Marco,
arriving breathlessly in gondolas from the nearer points, in fishing
boats with painted sails from the distant islands--hastening from their
unsold wares in the market stalls near the wooden bridge of the Rialto
to wait long hours for the pageant that no Venetian might miss. For
never had there been such another, and there was not too much space
where one might stand to see the glory and the beauty of it! _Dio!_ but
it was good to be born in Venice, where life was a _festa_!

Along the Riva their radiant, dark faces gleamed in the sunshine, where
they stood in serried ranks, picturesque in all the brilliant coloring
that their rustic wardrobes held in store for these days of _festa_;
silken shawls that were heirlooms--strings of coral and amber and great
Venetian beads of every tint, or an edge of old lace on the gala
_fazzuolo_ that many a noble lady might be proud to wear; everywhere
there was color against the background of festive garlands and brilliant
rugs decking the ba