eninsula? Carrara is a city of sculptors. Why not concentrate
their efforts here--by a gallery? I have myself some glorious
things,--the best group Canova ever modelled; the original Ariadne
too,--far finer than the thing people go to see at Frankfort. Then
there's Tanderini's Shepherd with the Goats.--Who lives yonder, Stubber?
What a beautiful garden it is!" And he drew up short in front of a villa
whose grounds were terraced in a succession of gardens down to the very
margin of the sea. Plants and shrubs of other climates were mingled
with those familiar to Italy, making up a picture of singular beauty, by
diversity of color and foliage. "Isn't this the 'Ombretta,' Stubber?"

"Yes, Altezza; but the Morelli have left it. It is let now to a
stranger,--a French lady. Some call her English, I believe."

"To be sure; I remember. There was a demand about a formal permission
to reside here. Landelli advised me not to sign it,--that she might turn
out English, or have some claim upon England, which was quite equivalent
to placing the Duchy, and all within it, under that blessed thing they
call British protection."

"There are worse things than even that," muttered Stubber.

"British occupation, perhaps you mean; well, you may be right. At all
events, I did not take Landelli's advice, for I gave the permission, and
I have never heard more of her. She must be rich, I take it. See what
order this place is kept in; that conservatory is very large indeed, and
the orange-trees are finer than ours."

"They seem very fine indeed," said Stubber.

"I say, sir, that we have none such at the Palace. I'll wager a zecchino
they have come from Naples. And look at that magnolia: I tell you,
Stubber, this garden is very far superior to ours."

"Your Highness has not been in the Palace gardens lately, perhaps. I was
there this morning, and they are really in admirable order."

"I'll have a peep inside of these grounds, Stubber," said the Duke, who,
no longer attentive to the other, only followed out his own train of
thought. At the same instant he dismounted, and, without giving himself
any trouble about his horse, made straight for a small wicket which lay
invitingly open in front of him. The narrow skirting of copse passed,
the Duke at once found himself in the midst of a lovely garden, laid
out with consummate skill and taste, and offering at intervals the most
beautiful views of the surrounding scenery. Although much of what he
be