ners,
fishermen and shopdealers, were set in motion, Luciana always showing
herself like the blazing nucleus of a comet with its long tail trailing
behind it. The ordinary amusements of the parties soon became too
insipid for her taste. Hardly would she leave the old people in peace at
the card-table. Whoever could by any means be set moving (and who could
resist the charm of being pressed by her into service?) must up, if not
to dance, then to play at forfeits, or some other game, where they were
to be victimized and tormented. Notwithstanding all that, however, and
although afterward the redemption of the forfeits had to be settled with
herself, yet of those who played with her, never any one, especially
never any man, let him be of what sort he would, went quite empty-handed
away. Indeed, some old people of rank who were there she succeeded in
completely winning over to herself, by having contrived to find out
their birthdays or christening days, and marking them with some
particular celebration. In all this she showed a skill not a little
remarkable. Every one saw himself favored, and each considered himself
to be the one most favored, a weakness of which the oldest person of the
party was the most notably guilty.

It seemed to be a sort of pride with her that men who had anything
remarkable about them--rank, character, or fame--she must and would gain
for herself. Gravity and seriousness she made give way to her, and,
wild, strange creature as she was, she found favor even with discretion
itself. Not that the young were at all cut short in consequence.
Everybody had his share, his day, his hour, in which she contrived to
charm and to enchain him. It was therefore natural enough that before
long she should have had the Architect in her eye, looking out so
unconsciously as he did from under his long black hair, and standing so
calm and quiet in the background. To all her questions she received
short, sensible answers; but he did not seem inclined to allow himself
to be carried away further, and at last, half provoked, half in malice,
she resolved that she would make him the hero of a day, and so gain him
for her court.

It was not for nothing that she had brought that quantity of luggage
with her. Much, indeed, had followed her afterward. She had provided
herself with an endless variety of dresses. When it took her fancy she
would change her dress three or four times a day, usually wearing
something of an ordinary