sell.

"What have you said there, Grounsell? you look so self-satisfied, it can
scarcely be over-civil."

"There,----'To the Viscount Norwood'" said Grounsell, as he sealed and
addressed the note. "We are getting through our work rapidly. In a week,
or even less, if George's symptoms show nothing worse, we shall get
away from this; and even on the sea one feels half as though it were
England."

We need not follow Grounsell through the busy days which ensued, nor
track him in his various negotiations with tradespeople,
bankers, house-agents, and that legionary class which are called
"commissionaires." Enough if we say that, in arranging for the departure
of his friends, his impressions of Italian roguery received many an
additional confirmation; and that, when the last day of their sojourn
arrived, his firm conviction was that none but a millionnaire could
afford to live in this the very cheapest capital of Europe!

And now they are gone! steaming calmly away across the Gulf of Genoa.
They have closed the little episode of their life in Italy, and with
heavy hearts are turning homeward. The great Mazzarini Palace looks sad
and forlorn; nor do we mean to linger much longer on a scene whence the
actors have departed.

CHAPTER III. A LAST SCENE

One last glance at the Mazzarini Palace, and we leave it forever.

Seated in the drawing-room where Lady Hester once held sway, in the
very chair around which swarmed her devoted courtiers and admirers, Mrs.
Ricketts now reclined, pretty much on the same terms, and with probably
some of the same sentiments, as Louis Blanc or his friend Albert might
have experienced on finding themselves domesticated within the Palace of
the Luxembourg. They were, so to say, parallel circumstances. There
had been a great reverse of fortune, an abdication, and a flight. The
sycophants of the day before were the masters now, and none disputed
the pretensions of any bold enough to assume dictation. To be sure, Mrs.
Ricketts's rule, like Ledru Rollings, was but a provisional government;
for already the bills for an approaching sale of everything were
posted over the front of the palace, and Racca Morlache's people were
cataloguing every article with a searching accuracy, very tormenting to
the beholders.

From some confused impression that they were friends of Lady Hester, and
that Mrs. Ricketts's health was in a precarious condition, Sir Stafford
gave orders that they should not be moles