rion voice, in the character of Italia defying Attila to harm "le mie
superbe citta," could wake the little boy up. The night wore on. It was
past one. Eustace and I had promised to be in the church of the Gesuati
at six next morning. We, therefore, gave the guests a gentle hint, which
they as gently took. With exquisite, because perfectly unaffected,
breeding they sank for a few moments into common conversation, then
wrapped the children up, and took their leave. It was an uncomfortable,
warm, wet night of sullen _scirocco_.

The next day, which was Sunday, Francesco called me at five. There was
no visible sunrise that cheerless damp October morning. Grey dawn stole
somehow imperceptibly between the veil of clouds and leaden waters, as
my friend and I, well sheltered by our _felze_, passed into the
Giudecca, and took our station before the church of the Gesuati. A few
women from the neighbouring streets and courts crossed the bridges in
draggled petticoats on their way to first mass. A few men, shouldering
their jackets, lounged along the Zattere, opened the great green doors,
and entered. Then suddenly Antonio cried out that the bridal party was
on its way, not as we had expected, in boats, but on foot. We left our
gondola, and fell into the ranks, after shaking hands with Francesco,
who is the elder brother of the bride. There was nothing very noticeable
in her appearance, except her large dark eyes. Otherwise both face and
figure were of a common type; and her bridal dress of sprigged grey
silk, large veil and orange blossoms, reduced her to the level of a
_bourgeoise_. It was much the same with the bridegroom. His features,
indeed, proved him a true Venetian gondolier; for the skin was strained
over the cheekbones, and the muscles of the throat beneath the jaws
stood out like cords, and the bright blue eyes were deep-set beneath a
spare brown forehead. But he had provided a complete suit of black for
the occasion, and wore a shirt of worked cambric, which disguised what
is really splendid in the physique of these oarsmen, at once slender and
sinewy. Both bride and bridegroom looked uncomfortable in their clothes.
The light that fell upon them in the church was dull and leaden. The
ceremony, which was very hurriedly performed by an unctuous priest, did
not appear to impress either of them. Nobody in the bridal party,
crowding together on both sides of the altar, looked as though the
service was of the slightest inter