fter her return home from the comparative freedom and
society of Madame Prateux's school, where she spent three years in
learning all polite accomplishments, and whence she came, with brilliant
hopes and romances ready imagined, for any possible exigency of the
future. She adored all the modern Italian poets, and read their verse
with that stately and rhythmical fulness of voice which often made it
sublime and always pleasing. She was a relentless patriot, an
Italianissima of the vividest green, white, and red; and she could
interpret the historical novels of her countrymen in their subtilest
application to the modern enemies of Italy. But all the Paronsina's
gifts and accomplishments were to poor purpose, if they brought no young
men a-wooing under her balcony; and it was to no effect that her fervid
fancy peopled the palace's empty halls with stately and gallant company
out of Marco Visconti, Nicolo de' Lapi, Margherita Pusterla, and the
other romances, since she could not hope to receive any practicable
offer of marriage from the heroes thus assembled. Her grandfather
invited no guests of more substantial presence to his house. In fact,
the police watched him too narrowly to permit him to receive society,
even had he been so minded, and for kindred reasons his family paid few
visits in the city. To leave Venice, except for the autumnal
_villeggiatura_ was almost out of the question; repeated applications at
the Luogotenenza won the two ladies but a tardy and scanty grace; and
the use of the passport allowing them to spend a few weeks in Florence
was attended with so much vexation, in coming and going upon the
imperial confines, and when they returned home they were subject to so
great fear of perquisition from the police, that it was after all rather
a mortification than a pleasure that the government had given them. The
signora received her few acquaintances once a week; but the Paronsina
found the old ladies tedious over their cups of coffee or tumblers of
lemonade, and declared that her mamma's reception days were a
martyrdom,--actually a martyrdom, to her. She was full of life and the
beautiful and tender longing of youth; she had a warm heart and a
sprightly wit; but she led an existence scarce livelier than a ghost's,
and she was so poor in friends and resources that she shuddered to think
what must become of her if Tonelli should die. It was not possible,
thanks to God! that he should marry.

The signora herse