ok their places on each side of the
throne. The King came in quietly without any pomp, and was greeted by
the most enthusiastic and prolonged demonstration. He acknowledged the
ovation, but evidently chafed under the slight delay, as if impatient
to commence his speech. Before doing so he turned toward the Queen's
_loge_ with a respectful inclination of the head, as if to acknowledge
her presence, then, bowing to the Diplomatic _loge_ and turning to the
audience, read his proclamation.

It was most difficult to hear what the King said, perched as we were
high above him; but we understood by the frequent interruptions and the
enthusiastic _benes_ and _bravos_ and the clapping of hands that what
he said pleased his subjects. The speech over, the King, accompanied by
his suite, left as quietly as he had entered, amid the vociferous
applause that followed. The Queen then arose, smiled and bowed to the
assembly, and withdrew.

The streets were thronged with soldiers and people, and it was as much
as his life was worth for the coachman to draw up in front of the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Field have almost completed their enormous palace out by
Santa Maria Maggiore, but they have not, as they hoped, succeeded in
making that part of Rome fashionable. They have bought land as far as
the Colosseum; Nero's gold house, which stands in a _finocchi_ patch,
is theirs too. The tenement-houses near them continue to festoon the
facades with the week's wash in every state of unrepair. There is no
privacy about the Italians washing their dirty linen, though they do
wash at home.

I seem to be introducing you to all Rome.

Mr. and Mme. Minghetti are old friends--that is, I have known her from
1866. Then she was Princess Camporeale, very handsome and captivating.
She is just as attractive now and holds Rome in her hand. Her _salon_
is the _salon_ where all fashionable Rome flocks. She has arranged it
in the most artistic manner. It is crowded with furniture, with cozy
corners and flirtatious nooks between _armoires_ and palm-trees.
Valuable old pictures and tapestries decorate the walls. The _salon_ is
two stories high and has an ornamental little winding staircase on
which an enormous stuffed peacock stands with outspread tail, as if
guarding things below. On her Sunday afternoons one is sure to hear
some good music. No one refuses, as it gives a person a certain
prestige to be heard there.

Mr. Minghetti, possessing the order of the Annun