ebrows and long drooping lashes were of
the same colour as her hair, and her eyes--well, they were deep hazel;
but it was impossible to ascertain this until after repeated
observations--they glowed and sparkled to such a bewildering extent.
Add to this a mouth "shaped like Cupid's bow" with full rich scarlet
lips, just parted sufficiently to permit a glimpse of the small regular
pearly teeth within, a small round deeply-dimpled chin, an ivory-white
neck and shoulders, upon which the delicate head was set with fairy-like
grace, and you have as accurate a portrait of this dainty beauty as it
is within my poor power to paint.

She approached the side of the bed, and, looking inquiringly in my face
for a moment, said in excellent English,--

"I congratulate you, sir, on your recovery from that terrible fever. I
am glad--oh! so very much, and so will be the count, my father, when he
returns. He has been obliged to go away on important business, and will
not perhaps be back for a day or two. But you are in excellent hands;
old Maria, my nurse, is a skilful leech, and Angela here and I have been
able to watch beside you, if we could do nothing more. Now, tell me,
are you hungry? You should be, for you have taken nothing except
Maria's horrid medicine for two whole days, and how long before that I
know not. Now, however, nurse has something more palatable for you; she
said you would awake soon and be better, and she has made you some
excellent broth. Shall she bring it up?"

"By all means," I replied. "I am so weak with hunger, or something,
that I seem scarcely able to speak. But before we do anything else,
allow me to ask where I am, and to whom I am indebted for so much
kindness. The last thing I remember was that I was in camp with--"

"Bell' Demonio," she interrupted. "Yes, she brought you to us two days
ago. You were then very ill indeed, and Bell' thought you ought to have
better nursing than she could give you. It is all quite right; you are
in the Chateau Paoli belonging to my father, Count Lorenzo di Paoli; I
am his only daughter Francesca, and this is my foster-sister Angela.
Now you must talk no more for the present, but take the broth like a
good boy which I shall bring you."

So saying, she tripped away out of the room, returning again in about
ten minutes, accompanied by an ancient and inexpressibly ugly female,
who, I was duly informed, was the before-mentioned Maria.

This antique dame felt m