of her own cousin,--which was of
course her own home,--and afterwards in the society of the place
to which the Vincents had been made welcome,--Mary met a young man
who was known to all the world as the Duca di Crinola. No young man
more beautiful to look at, more charming in manners, more ready in
conversation, was then known in those parts of Italy than this young
nobleman. In addition to these good gifts, he was supposed to have
in his veins the very best blood in all Europe. It was declared on
his behalf that he was related to the Bourbons and to the Hapsburgh
family. Indeed there was very little of the best blood which Europe
had produced in the last dozen centuries of which some small
proportion was not running in his veins. He was too the eldest son of
his father, who, though he possessed the most magnificent palace in
Verona, had another equally magnificent in Venice, in which it suited
him to live with his Duchessa. As the old nobleman did not come often
to Verona, and as the young nobleman never went to Venice, the father
and son did not see much of each other, an arrangement which was
supposed to have its own comforts, as the young man was not disturbed
in the possession of his hotel, and as the old man was reported in
Verona generally to be arbitrary, hot-tempered, and tyrannical. It
was therefore said of the young Duke by his friends that he was
nearly as well off as though he had no father at all.

But there were other things in the history of the young Duke which,
as they became known to the Vincents, did not seem to be altogether
so charming. Though of all the palaces in Verona that in which he
lived was by far the most beautiful to look at from the outside,
it was not supposed to be furnished in a manner conformable to its
external appearance. It was, indeed, declared that the rooms were for
the most part bare; and the young Duke never gave the lie to these
assertions by throwing them open to his friends. It was said of him
also that his income was so small and so precarious that it amounted
almost to nothing, that the cross old Duke at Venice never allowed
him a shilling, and that he had done everything in his power to
destroy the hopes of a future inheritance. Nevertheless, he was
beautiful to look at in regard to his outward attire, and could
hardly have been better dressed had he been able to pay his tailor
and shirt-maker quarterly. And he was a man of great accomplishments,
who could talk various