ous of the
odd and incongruous appearance of the two sons--Eugenio in a suit like
that of a stage grandfather, snuff-colored, and with collar that raised
the lobes of his ears; and dear little Celestino with a similarly cut
coat in bottle green, with large gilt buttons, making him look like a
man in miniature. Such had been the style pronounced by the village
tailor to be in the height of Parisian fashion, but being a novelty to
the London "gamins," it attracted more notice from them than we could
have wished. After Signora Mortera and her children had attended the
confessional she seemed to be much easier in her mind, and was so
amiable as to tell my mother on our return home that it was edifying to
behold the signorina walking like a Roman matron, in contrast to those
who were giggling and turning their heads first one way and then the
other, like so many pulcinelle. Notwithstanding this compliment,
however, I perceived that she was uneasy concerning Eugenio and myself.
It was evidently a satisfaction to her that I should load Celestino with
caresses and endearing epithets, but that Eugenio should sit near me,
speak to me, or even be in the same room with me (whether alone or in
company), was the signal for demonstrations of the extremest vigilance.
On one evening my cousin had brought home some gifts, consisting of a
silver pencil-case with gold pen for Eugenio, a traveling writing-case
with his name on it for Celestino, and a small traveling work-bag
similarly marked for Virginia. These were highly appreciated. Celestino
seemed unwilling to have his desk out of his sight for a single moment,
and when his bed-time came wanted to take it up with him. His mother,
unwilling to leave Eugenio in my society without her watchful presence,
directed him to carry his brother up.

"Signora madre," said Celestino, "I am not tired to-night."

"Well, then, Eugenio can carry up thy writing-case for thee."

"Signora madre, it is not heavy, and I would like to carry it myself."

So Signora Lucretia went up with him herself, and, leaving my mother to
entertain Eugenio, I went immediately into another room. I felt too
deeply for the misfortunes of the unsophisticated Eugenio ever to have
willingly trifled with the nascent susceptibilities of his heart.

One little incident, however, occurred to interrupt the orthodox reserve
of our demeanor. An old friend of ours, Captain Stuart, had sent
Virginia a bank-note with which to procure