; and they started for Naples.

CHAPTER XLI. AN EVENING IN FLORENCE

That happy valley of the Val d'Arno, in which fair Florence stands,
possesses, amidst all its virtues, none more conspicuous than the
blessed forgetfulness of the past, so eminently the gift of those who
dwell there. Faults and follies of a few years back have so faded by
time as to be already historical; and as, in certain climates, rocks and
stones become shrined by lichens, and moss-covered in a year or two, so
here, in equally brief space, bygones are shrouded and shadowed in a
way that nothing short of cruelty and violence could once more expose to
view.

The palace where Lady Glencore once displayed all her attractions of
beauty and toilette, and dispensed a hospitality of princely splendor,
had remained for a course of time close barred and shut up. The massive
gate was locked, the windows shuttered, and curious tourists were told
that there were objects of interest within, but it was impossible to
obtain sight of them. The crowds who once flocked there at nightfall,
and whose equipages filled the court, now drove on to other haunts,
scarcely glancing as they passed at the darkened casements of the
grim old edifice; when at length the rumor ran that "some one" had
arrived there. Lights were seen in the porter's lodge, the iron _grille_
was observed to open and shut, and tradespeople came and went within
the building; and, finally, the assurance gained ground that its former
owner had returned.

"Only think who has come back to us," said one of the idlers of the
Cascine, as he lounged on the steps of a fashionable carriage,--"La
Nina!" And at once the story went far and near, repeated at every
corner, and discussed in every circle; so that had a stranger to the
place but caught the passing sounds, he would have heard that one name
uttered in every group he encountered. La Nina! and why not the Countess
of Glencore, or, at least, the Countess de la Torre? As when exiled
royalists assume titles in accordance with fallen fortunes, so, in
Italy, injured fame seeks sympathy in the familiarity of the Christian
name, and "Society" at once accepts the designation as that of those
who throw themselves upon the affectionate kindness of the world, rather
than insist upon its reverence and respect.

Many of her former friends were still there; but there was also a
numerous class, principally foreigners, who only knew of her by repute.
The tradition