wrought large upon the creamy fabric of her tunic, the threads of gold
and gleam of jewels half lost within its folds as she walked: but the
people looked for the heraldic devices and named them eagerly as, two by
two, the maidens stepped on shore--Mocenigo--Giustiniani--Morosini--
Dandolo--Contarini--a new name for every sweet young face--the King of
Cyprus could add none fairer, nor no more noble arms to the court of his
youthful Queen. The Senate had outdone itself in luxury of imagination.

"Ecco!" The low long-drawn sound of delight swept through the expectant
throng like the rustle of the wind among the rushes, for here, at last,
was La Caterina! and a very child she seemed as she stood surrounded by
the escort of noble Matrons of Honor most sumptuously clad, whom Venice
had appointed to act as sponsors in the ceremonial of the Adoption. She
was like a snow-drop in a garden of exotics--so pale and fair and young,
in her robes of filmy lace from the cushions of Burano--the great pearls
of Janus rising and falling with the frightened throbbing of her breast.
Her mother only stood beside her under the canopy--her hand clasping
that of her child with a pressure which gradually steadied her to forget
herself and to do her part mechanically, as she might be instructed:
for, deep in the heart of the Lady Fiorenza that ceaseless prayer upheld
her with a rare and noble dignity--it brought her calm for the drama she
had not willed, and faith that for her child all would be well. She had
pleaded with the Senate that on this day of deep import the barge of
Caterina should not be without the benediction of its tutelary saint,
since every gondola was wont to have its shrine; and behind them under
the canopy, from a mass of roses on an altar of alabaster, rose a noble
Madonna by Bellini, painted with exquisite grace--the votive picture
which later kept within the Chapel of the Lady Fiorenza in the Palazzo
Cornaro, the memory of this day.

The little ones cried and struggled down among the crowd, seeing
nothing, and conscious from the chorus of ecstatic exclamations that
they were missing a golden moment.

"_Pace!_ Yes, they are coming: she is there--the Regina. Every one of
you shall see--every one. _Pazienza!_ Some one will hold the _bimbo_ who
sleeps? Then I could lift Tonino and Maria. _Mille Grazie!_"

A dozen sympathetic arms had instantly offered in response to this
appeal, for the good-natured Venetian crowd adored _fes