tanding in the ballroom, the incense of the flowers in his
nostrils, the music thrilling in his ear--now that flashing eyes,
flushed cheeks, graceful forms palpitating with the fury of the
dance--and hands with clasping fingers, are turned toward him--does he
still feel regretful--sad? Not in the least.

No sooner had he arrived than he found himself the object of a species
of ovation. This put him into the highest possible spirits. It was
most gratifying. He could not possibly do less than return these
salutations with the same warmth with which they were offered.

Not that Count Nobili acknowledged any inferiority to those among whom
he moved as an equal. Count Nobili held that, in New Italy, every
man is a gentleman who is well educated and well mannered. As to the
language the Marchesa Guinigi used about him, he shook with laughter
whenever it was mentioned.

So it fell out that, before he had arrived many minutes, the
remembrance of Enrica died out, and Nobili flung himself into the
spirit of the ball with all the ardor of his nature.

"Why did you come so late, Nobili?" asked Orsetti, turning his head,
and speaking in the pause of a waltz with Luisa Bernardini. "You must
go at once and talk to Trenta about the cotillon."

"Well, Nobili, you gave us a splendid entertainment for the festival,"
said Franchi. "Per Dio! there were no women to trouble us."

"No women!" exclaimed Civilla--"that was the only fault. Divine
woman!--Otherwise it was superb. Who has been ill-treating you,
Franchi, to make you so savage?"

Franchi put up his eye-glass and stared at him.

"When there is good wine, I prefer to drink it without women. They
distract me."

"Never saw such a reception in Lucca," said Count Malatesta; "never
drank such wine. Go on, caro mio, go on, and prosper. We will all
support you, but we cannot imitate you."

Nobili, passing on quickly, nearly ran over Cavaliere Trenta. He was
in the act of making a profound obeisance, as he handed an ice to one
of his contemporaries.

"Ah, youth! youth!" exclaimed poor Trenta, softly, with difficulty
recovering his equilibrium by the help of his stick.--"Never mind,
Count Nobili, don't apologize; I can bear any thing from a young
man who celebrates the festival of the Holy Countenance with such
magnificence. Per Bacco! you are the best Lucchese in Lucca. I have
seen nothing like it since the duke left. My son, it was worthy of the
palace you inhabit."

Ah! could