ves more changed than all around. We could have sworn that
waterfall was twice as high, and certainly the lake used not to be the
mere pond we see it; and the cedars,--surely these are not the cedars
we were wont to sit under with Marian long ago? Oh dear! when I think
that I once fancied I could pass my life in this spot, and now I am
actually impatient for day-dawn that I may leave it!

With something of this humor three persons sat at sunset under the old
beech-trees at the Bagni di Lucca. They were characters in this true
history that we but passingly presented to our reader, and may well have
lapsed from his memory. They were Mr. and Mrs. Morgan and Mr. Mosely,
who had by the merest accident once more met and renewed acquaintance.

"My wife remembered you, sir, the moment you entered the _table d'hote_
room. She said, 'There 's that young man of Trip and Mosely's, that we
saw here--was it three years ago?'"

"Possibly," was the dry response. "My memory is scarcely so good."

"You know I never forget a face, Tom," broke in the lady.

"I constantly do," said Mosely, tartly.

"Yes, but you must see so many people every day of your life, such
hordes passing in and passing out, as I said to Morgan, it's no wonder
at all if he can't remember us."

Mr. Mosely had just burned his finger with a lucifer-match, and mattered
something not actually a benediction.

"Great changes over Italy--indeed, over all Europe--since we met last
here," said Morgan, anxious to get discussion into a safer region.

"Yes, the Italians are behaving admirably; they 've shown the world
that they are fully capable of winning their liberty, and knowing how to
employ it."

"Don't believe it, sir,--bigoted set of rascals,--it's all
pillage,--simple truth is, the Governments were all too good for them."

"You're right, Tom; perfectly right."

"He 'll not have many to agree with him, then; of that, madam, be well
assured. The sympathies of the whole world are with these people."

"Sympathies!--I like to hear of sympathies! Why won't sympathies mend
the holes in their pantaloons, sir, and give them bread to eat?"

Mosely arose with impatience, and began to draw on his gloves.

"Oh, don't go for a moment, sir," broke in the lady. "I am so curious to
hear if you know what became of the people we met the last time we were
here?"

"Which of them?"

"Well--indeed, I'd like to hear about all of them."

"I believe I can tell you, then. The