omage of such
early risers as were fain to couple with their pursuit of health the
recognition of a great man.

Like poverty, hydropathy makes us acquainted with strange associates.
The present establishment was too recently formed to have acquired any
very distinctive celebrity, but it was sufficiently crowded. There was a
great number of third-rate Italians from the Lombard towns and cities,
a sprinkling of inferior French, a few English, a stray American or so,
and an Irish family, on their way to Italy, sojourning here rather for
economy than health, and fancying that they were acquiring habits and
manners that would serve them through their winter's campaign.

The first figure which emerged upon the plateau was that of a man
swathed in great-coat, cap, and worsted wrappers, that it was difficult
to guess what he could be. He came forward at a shambling trot, and was
about to pass on without looking aside, when Lord Lackington called out,
"Ah! Spicer, have you got off that eleven pounds yet?" "No, my Lord,
but very near it. I'm seven stone ten, and at seven eight I'm all
right."

"Push along, then, and don't lose your training,'' said his Lordship,
dismissing him with a bland wave of the hand. And the other made an
attempt at a salutation, and passed on.

"Madame la Marquise, your servant. You ascend these mountain steeps like
a chamois!"

This compliment was addressed to a little, very fat old lady, who came
snorting along like a grampus.

"Benedetto Dottore!" cried she. "He will have it that I must go up to
the stone cross yonder every morning before breakfast, and I know I
shall burst a blood-vessel yet in the attempt."

A chair, with a mass of horse-clothing and furs, surmounted by a little
yellow wizened face, was next borne by, to which Lord Lackington bowed
courteously, saying, "Your Excellency improves at every hour."

His Excellency gave a brief nod and a little faint smile, swallowed a
mouthful from a silver flask presented by his servant, and disappeared.

"Ah! the fair syren sisters! what a charming vision!" said his Lordship,
as two bright-cheeked, laughing-eyed girls bounced upon the terrace in
all the high-hearted enjoyment of good health and good spirits.

"Molly, for shame!" cried what seemed the elder, a damsel of about
nineteen, as the younger, holding out her dress with both hands,
performed a kind of minuet curtsey to the Viscount, to which he
responded with a bow that might have don