beauty at once so tangible and so unreal.

To every traveller it must come with the sense of desecration, that
this most magical of cities is approached by nothing less prosaic than
an ordinary railway terminus. And Clodagh gave a little involuntary
gasp of disappointment as the train swerved suddenly, exchanging the
glamour of the outer world for a noisy station that might have belonged
to any town; and as she rose from her seat, arranged her hat, and
collected her books, she wondered for one moment whether the vision
just hidden from her view was in reality the handiwork of man and not
some mirage conjured up by her own imagination. So strong was the
feeling, that she remained silent as she descended from the train, and
waited while Milbanke saw to the collecting of the luggage; then, still
without speaking, she followed him down the flight of steps that lead
to the water. But there, as the station vanished from consideration,
and the picturesque crowd of waiting gondolas met her gaze, her
pleasure and excitement woke again; and with a quick gesture, she laid
her hand on her husband's arm.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful?" she said in a hushed voice.

Milbanke turned to her uncertainly.

"Yes, my dear," he said absently--"yes. But----" He sniffed
critically--"but do you not detect a distinctly unhealthy odour?"

Clodagh's hand dropped suddenly and expressively to her side, and she
wheeled round with unnecessary haste towards the gondola into which the
luggage was being piled.

But even this jarring incident could not mar the first journey in the
stately black boat. Every portion of the way was instinct with its own
especial charm. From the wide dignity of the Grand Canal with its
ancient palaces, its mysterious stream of silent traffic, its
occasional note of modern life, to the fascinating glimpses of narrower
waterways where the women of the people, with uncovered heads, leaned
out of their windows to exchange the day's gossip with a neighbour
across the water--all was a delight, something engrossing and unique.
Clodagh had no desire to speak as they glided forward; and when the
hotel steps were reached, she suffered herself to be assisted from the
gondola scarcely certain whether she was dreaming or awake.

Outside the hotel, half a dozen visitors were seated upon the small
stone terrace, indolently watching the arrival of new guests; but so
absorbed was Clodagh in the scene before her, that she scarcely
observed