h had pale green doors, a red carpet, blue walls, and yellow
bed covers,--all so gay it was like sleeping in a rainbow.

As if another lovely lake under the windows, and moonlight _ad libitum_,
was not enough, they had music also. Lavinia scorned the idea of sleep,
and went prowling about the rooms, hanging over the balconies, and doing
the romantic in a style that was a disgrace to her years. She it was who
made the superb discovery that the music they heard came from across the
way, and that by opening a closet window they could look into a theatre
and see the stage.

All rushed at once and beheld an opera in full blast, heartily enjoying
the unusual advantages of their position; for not only could they hear
the warblers, but see them when the curtain was down. What a thing it
was to see Donna Anna do up her black hair, Don Giovanni dance a jig,
and stately Ottavio imbibe refreshment out of a black bottle, and the
ghostly Commander prance like a Punchinello as they got him into
position.

The others soon succumbed to sleep; but, till long after midnight, old
Livy wandered like a ghost from the front balcony, with the lovely lake,
to the closet window and its dramatic joys, feeling that no moment of
that memorable night should be lost, for what other traveller could
boast that she ever went to the opera wrapped in a yellow bedquilt?

On the morrow a few pictures of Luini before breakfast, and then more
sailing over lakes, and more driving in festive diligences to Menaggio,
where a boat like a market waggon without wheels bore them genteelly to
Cadenabbia, and a week of repose on the banks of Lago Como.

Their palace did not 'lift its marble walls to eternal summer' by any
means; for it rained much, and was so cold that some took to their beds
for warmth, stone floors looking like castile-soap not being just the
thing for rheumatism. Hand-organs, dancing-bears, two hotels, one
villa, no road but the lake, and an insinuating boatman with one eye who
lay in wait among the willows, and popped out to grab a passenger when
anyone ventured forth, are all that remains in the memory regarding
Cadenabbia.

A few extracts from Lavinia's note-book may be found useful at this
point, both as a speedy way of getting our travellers to Rome, and for
the bold criticisms on famous places and pictures which they contain:--

'Milan.--Cathedral like a big wedding-cake. "Last Supper" in the
barracks--did not "thrill;" tried to, but co