siness of earning
bread for them both; moreover, he was famous, and therefore could not
possibly get his living obscurely. The Pope's adopted family would vie
with the ex-Queen of Sweden, the Spanish Ambassador and the rich nobles,
to flatter him and attract him to their respective palaces. Alberto
Altieri, who had lost his heart to Ortensia's beauty at first sight,
would organise every sort of fashionable entertainment for the young
bride's benefit, and would do his best to turn her head by magnificent
display. Hereafter, till the summer heat drove the Romans to the
country, no evening gathering in a noble house would deserve mention if
Stradella and his wife were not there, as no concert would be worth
hearing unless some of his music was performed. The young couple would
be continually in the very vortex of fashion's whirlpool, and though
they would not resent the distinction, and might even enjoy the gaiety
for a few weeks, they would have but little time left for each other
between morning and midnight.

It was apparent on the very first night they spent in the Palazzo
Altieri that Don Alberto was not the only young man in Rome who wished
to please Ortensia. Soon after the second hour of night, which we
should call about ten o'clock in June, Stradella and Ortensia heard
music in the narrow street below their new quarters; and as the sounds
did not move farther away, it was almost immediately apparent that the
singers were serenading Ortensia. It was no ordinary music, either;
there were half-a-dozen fine voices and four or five stringed
instruments, played with masterly skill--a violin, a 'viola d'amore,'
and at least two or three lutes.

Stradella put out the light in the room and opened the outer shutters a
little, for they had been closed. The moon was shining even more
brightly than on the previous night, but the rays did not fall as they
fell on the loggia at the inn; the roofs of the low houses opposite were
partly illuminated, and the belfry of San Stefano, and of the little
church of Santa Marta and the Minerva much farther away; but that side
of the irregularly built Altieri palace and the street below were almost
in darkness. Looking down between the shutters, Ortensia and Stradella
could only see deeper shadows within the shade, where the serenaders
were standing, and they were sure that the latter could not see them at
all. They listened with delight, their heads close together, and each
with one arm