e wife's not black," screamed out the duenna. "They ought to
be; her blood is pure Italian."

"They are blue as heaven's sky, and her face is dazzling to behold from
its extreme fairness, and her golden hair droops in curls almost to her
waist--it is a band of diamonds, you see, that confines it from the
temples. But you can see her now, mother; remember you one half so
lovely?"

"_Dio mio!_" uttered the woman, startled at the beautiful vision that
now came within her sight; "the Lord of Visinara has not sacrificed his
liberty for nothing."

"Mark you her rich white dress, mother, with its corsage of diamonds,
and the sleeves looped up to the elbow with lace and jewels? And over
it, nearly hiding her fair neck, is a mantle of blue velvet, clasped by
a diamond star. And see, she is taking her glove off, and her hand is
raised to her cheek--small and delicate it is too, as befitteth her rank
and beauty. And--look!--he lays his own upon it as she drops it, but she
would draw it from him to replace the glove. Now he bends to speak to
her, and she steals a glance at him with her blushing cheeks and her eye
full of love. And now he is bowing to the people--hark how they shout,
'Long life to the Lady Adelaide--long life and happiness to the Count
and Countess of Visinara!'"

"She is very beautiful, Bianca; but--"

"Ay, what, you are a reader of countenances, _madra mia_; what see you
there?"

"That she is proud and self-willed. And woe be to any who may hereafter
look upon her handsome husband with an eye of favor, for she loves him."

"Can there be a doubt of that?" echoed Bianca; "has she not married him?
And look at his attractions: see this goodly lot of cavaliers speeding
on to join his banquet; can any there compare with him?"

"Chi e stracco di bonaccie, si mariti," answered the lady; "and have
you, Bianca, yet to learn that the comeliest mates oftentimes bring any
thing but love to the altar?"

Bianca made a grimace, as if she doubted. "It will come sure enough,
then," she said aloud; "for none could be brought into daily contact
with one so attractive and not learn to love him."

"And who should this be in a holy habit, following the bridal equipage
on his mule? Surely the spiritual director of the Lady Adelaide--the
Father Anselmo it must be, that we have heard speak of. A faithful man,
but stern, it is told; and so his countenance would betray. Bend your
heads in reverend meekness, my children, the holy