ther sought a convent for herself.

In the first of the three Giustiniani palaces Mr. Howells, moving from
the Casa Falier across the way, wrote his _Venetian Life_. In the next
Wagner wrote part of _Tristan and Isolda_.

Needing solitude for this task, the composer came to Venice in the
autumn of 1858, and put up first at Danieli's. Needing a more private
abode he came here. From his _Autobiography_ I take the story. "I heard
that one of the three Giustiniani palaces, situated not far from the
Palazzo Foscari, was at present very little patronized by visitors, on
account of its situation, which in the winter is somewhat unfavourable.
I found some very spacious and imposing apartments there, all of which
they told me would remain uninhabited. I here engaged a large stately
room with a spacious bedroom adjoining. I had my luggage quickly
transferred there, and on the evening of the 30th August I said to
myself, 'At last I am living in Venice.'

"My leading idea was that I could work here undisturbed. I immediately
wrote to Zuerich asking for my Erard 'Grand' and my bed to be sent on to
me, as, with regard to the latter, I felt that I should find out what
cold meant in Venice. In addition to this, the grey-washed walls of my
large room soon annoyed me, as they were so little suited to the
ceiling, which was covered with a fresco which I thought was rather
tasteful. I decided to have the walls of the large room covered with
hangings of a dark-red shade, even if they were of quite common quality.
This immediately caused much trouble; but it seemed to me that it was
well worth surmounting, when I gazed down from my balcony with growing
satisfaction on the wonderful canal, and said to myself that here I
would complete _Tristan_."

The composer's life was very simple. "I worked," he says, "till two
o'clock, then I got into the gondola that was always in waiting, and was
taken along the solemn Grand Canal to the bright Piazzetta, the peculiar
charm of which always had a cheerful effect on me. After this I made for
my restaurant in the Piazza San Marco, and when I had finished my meal I
walked alone or with Karl along the Riva to the Giardini Pubblici, the
only pleasure-ground in Venice where there are any trees, and at
nightfall I came back in the gondola down the canal, then more sombre
and silent, till I reached the spot where I could see my solitary lamp
shining from the night-shrouded facade of the old Palazzo Giustinian