ct is three-parts French pronounced
as it is written; and whose force and frankness strike you with a
special charm after the ha-haing of the Florentines, the sonorousness of
the Romans and the sing-song of the Neapolitans; to say nothing of the
hideousness of the Genoese and the chaos of the Sicilians; that city of
kindly greetings and hearty welcome?

Well, if you have given Turin a fair trial, you will know what a
pleasant place it is; if you have not, I advise you to do so upon the
first occasion that may present itself.

The climate is described by some emulator of Thomson to consist of "Tre
mesi d'Inferno, nove d'inverno." But then you must remember that Turin
houses are provided with chimneys, and Turin floors with carpets, and
that no one who does not wish it is forced--as so many of us have
been--to shiver upon marble pavement and be half suffocated by a
charcoal-brazier. No refuge from the cold save that, one's bed, or
sitting in a church. And one can neither lie for ever in bed, nor sit
the day through in a church, however fine it may be.

It is extremely healthy, however, and altogether one of the pleasantest
towns in Italy to live in. It has, too, one of the fairest gardens in
Europe: the Valentino, with its old red-brick palace, its elms, its
lawns, its river and setting, on one side, of lovely hills. Lady Mary W.
Montagu speaks of the beauty of this garden in her day. I think she
would scarcely recognise it at the present. Modern art has done its
best, and over the whole yet lingers the mysterious charm of the Past;
the dark historical legends connected with the palace and its quondam
frail, fair, and, I regret to add, ferocious mistress, its--But what has
all this to do with "Saint or Satan," you will ask? Where is your
promised story?

Well, Satan enters somewhat largely into the story of the Valentino
which I will relate you at some future time; and, as to the part, if
any, his dark Majesty had in what I am going to tell you to-day, you
yourself must judge, reader. I am inclined to think _he had_ a claw in
the matter, rather than Saint Antonio to whom the miracle is ascribed.
The miracle! Yes, the miracle. And if you could see her, you would
certainly say that a miracle of some kind there certainly was.

I have, after long consideration and study, come to the conclusion that
"Old Maids" are, generally speaking, a very pleasant, kind-hearted
portion of society. They may be a little irritable and re