A Foregone Conclusion

elsewhere in Venice. The local pharmacy, the caffè, the grocery, the fruiterer's, the other shops with which every Venetian campo is furnished, had each a certain life about it,

f soft green sea-mosses in the rising and falling tide. Swarms of water-bugs and beetles played over the edges of the steps, and crabs scuttled side-wise into deeper water at the approach of a gondola. A length of stone-capped brick wall, to which patches of stucco still clung, stretched from the gate on either hand under cover of an ivy that flung its mesh of shining green from within, where there lurked a lovely garden, stately, spacious for Venice, and full of a delicious, half-sad surprise for whoso opened upon it. In the midst it had a broken fountain, with a marble naiad standing on a shell, and looking saucier than the sculptor meant, from having lost the point of her nose, nymphs and fauns, and shepherds and shepherdesses, her kinsfolk, coquetted in and out among the greenery in flirtation not to be embarrassed by the fracture of an arm, or the casting of a leg or so; one lady had no head, but she was the boldest of all. In this garden there were some mulberry and pomegranate trees, several of which hung about the fountain with seats in their shade, and for the rest there seemed to be mostly roses and oleanders, with other shrubs of a kind that made the greatest show of blossom and cost the least for tendance. A wide terrace stretched across the rear of the palace, dropping to the garden path by a flight of balustraded steps, and upon this terrace opened the long windows of Mrs. Vervain's parlor and dining-room. Her landlord owned only the first story and the basement of the palace, in some corner of which he cowere

; he had faltered a while, before leaving home, over the sad choice between a shabby cylinder hat of obsolete fashion and his well-worn three-cornered priestly beaver, and had at last put on the latter with a sigh. He

so seldom been able to escape; but the daughter wore a dress of delicate green, in which she seemed a part of the young season that everywhere clothed itself in the same tint. The sunlight fell upon her blonde hair, melting in

mpliment. A quick light flashed and fled in her cheek as she talked, and the fringes of her serious, asking eyes swept slowly up and down as she bent them upon him a moment before she broke abruptly, not coquettishly, away from him, and moved towards her mother, while Fe

I know." The deprecating wave of the hand with which Don Ippolito appealed to her from herself, seemed arrested midway by

rs. Vervain, "breakfast is ready

coming forward and offering his arm,

confided in under-tone, "but the fact is, our French is

Italians and Americans whom Frenchm

polito was for the first time in his life confronted by a breakfast of hot beef-steak, eggs and toast, fried potatoes, and coffee with milk, with a choice of tea. He

ages," said Ferris. "It is an embarras de richesses. Let us fix upon a common maccheronic. May I trouble you for a poc

fond admiration aside to Don Ippolito, who smiled

ick to my native Bergamask for the future; and D

to Mrs. Vervain in that tongue with a little French; Florida, conscious of Ferri

sing when Ferris said that he must go,

gone before, if I'd thought you would

t have a good accent. So very kind of you. Will you arrange with him about the pay?-such a shame! Thanks. Then I needn't say anything to him about that. I'm s

Ippolito lingered for a while to talk over the proposed lessons, and then went, afte

ather droll

, mot

's a gentleman in virtue of his profession, and I couldn't do less than ask him to breakfast. He has beautiful manners; and if

d care, mother. At any

when they're spread out on a book, you kno

uch fingernails all over

't care for it in him, if he didn't seem s