watch was ready; so they drove out without delay. It seemed to Lord
Chetwynde like a dream. He was lost in anticipations of the coming
meeting--that meeting which he had never dared to hope for, but which
was now before him.

Obed Chute, on coming to Florence, had rented a villa on the slopes
of the hills overlooking Val d'Arno. It was about twelve or fifteen
miles away. The road ran through the plain, and then ascended the
hills gently, in a winding direction, till it reached the place. The
villa was surrounded by beautiful grounds, wherein trim gardens were
seen, and fair winding walks, interspersed with fountains and
statuary and pavilions. Besides these there were extensive forests of
thick-growing trees, whose dense branches, interlacing overhead,
threw down heavy shadows. Through these dim woods many pathways
penetrated, leading to sequestered nooks and romantic grottoes. Here
there wandered several little brooklets, and in the midst of the
forest there was a lake, or rather a pond, from the middle of which
rose a marble Triton, which perpetually spouted forth water from his
shell. The villa itself was of generous dimensions, in that style
which is so familiar to us in this country, with broad piazzas and
wide porticoes, and no lack of statuary. Here Obed Chute had made
himself quite at home, and confided to Lord Chetwynde the fact that
he would prefer this to his house on the Hudson River if he could
only see the Stars and Stripes floating from the Campanile at
Florence. As this was not likely to happen, he was forced to look
upon himself as merely a pilgrim and a sojourner.

Lord Chetwynde entered the villa. Obed remained behind for a few
moments to give some directions to the servants. A lofty hall ran
through the villa, with statues on each side, and a fountain at the
farthest end. On either side there were doors opening into spacious
apartments. Lord Chetwynde turned to the right, and entered a
magnificent room, which extended the whole length of the house. He
looked around, and his attention was at once arrested by a figure at
the farthest end. It was a lady, whose youthful face and slender
figure made his heart beat fast and furiously; for, though he could
not distinguish her features, which were partly turned away, yet the
shape was familiar, and was associated with the sweetest memories of
his life. The lady was sitting in a half-reclining position on an
Egyptian couch, her head was thrown back, a boo