ce, to
its warmth and its sincerity. He seemed quite absorbed in his wife and
child. I cannot remember ever to have found Madame Ossoli alone, on
those evenings when she remained at home. Her husband was always with
her. The picture of their room rises clearly on my memory. A small
square room, sparingly, yet sufficiently furnished, with polished
floor and frescoed ceiling,--and, drawn up closely before the cheerful
fire, an oval table, on which stood a monkish lamp of brass, with
depending chains that support quaint classic cups for the olive
oil. There, seated beside his wife, I was sure to find the Marchese,
reading from some patriotic book, and dressed in the dark brown,
red-corded coat of the Guardia Civica, which it was his melancholy
pleasure to wear at home. So long as the conversation could be carried
on in Italian, he used to remain, though he rarely joined in it to any
considerable degree; but if a number of English and American visitors
came in, he used to take his leave and go to the Cafe d'Italia,
being very unwilling, as Madame Ossoli told me, to impose any seeming
restraint, by his presence, upon her friends, with whom he was unable
to converse. For the same reason, he rarely remained with her at
the houses of her English or American friends, though he always
accompanied her thither, and returned to escort her home.

I conversed with him so little that I can hardly venture to make any
remarks on the impression which I received from his conversation,
with regard to the character of his mind. Notwithstanding his general
reserve and curtness of speech, on two or three occasions he showed
himself to possess quite a quick and vivid fancy, and even a certain
share of humor. I have heard him tell stories remarkably well. One
tale, especially, which related to a dream he had in early life, about
a treasure concealed in his father's house, which was thrice repeated,
and made so strong an impression on his mind as to induce him to
batter a certain panel in the library almost to pieces, in vain, but
which received something like a confirmation from the fact, that a
Roman attorney, who rented that and other rooms from the family, after
his father's death, grew suddenly and unaccountably rich,--I remember
as being told with great felicity and vivacity of expression.

His recollections of the trouble and the dangers through which he
had passed with his wife seemed to be overpoweringly painful. On one
occasion, he be