kind, but making her appearance suddenly at
intervals in a thorough masquerade dress, as a peasant girl or a
fish-maiden, as a fairy or a flower-girl; and this would go on from
morning till night. Sometimes she would even disguise herself as an old
woman, that her young face might peep out the fresher from under the
cap; and so utterly in this way did she confuse and mix together the
actual and the fantastic, that people thought they were living with a
sort of drawing-room witch.

But the principal use which she had for these disguises were pantomimic
tableaux and dances, in which she was skilful in expressing a variety of
character. A cavalier in her suite had taught himself to accompany her
action on the piano with the little music which was required; they
needed only to exchange a few words and they at once understood each
other.

One day, in a pause of a brilliant ball, they were called upon suddenly
to extemporize (it was on a private hint from themselves) one of these
exhibitions. Luciana seemed embarrassed, taken by surprise, and contrary
to her custom let herself be asked more than once. She could not decide
upon her character, desired the party to choose, and asked, like an
improvisatore, for a subject. At last her piano-playing companion, with
whom it had been all previously arranged, sat down at the instrument,
and began to play a mourning march, calling on her to give them the
Artemisia which she had been studying so admirably. She consented; and
after a short absence reappeared, to the sad tender music of the dead
march, in the form of the royal widow, with measured step, carrying an
urn of ashes before her. A large black tablet was borne in after her,
and a carefully cut piece of chalk in a gold pencil case.

One of her adorers and adjutants, into whose ear she whispered
something, went directly to call the Architect, to desire him, and, if
he would not come, to drag him up, as master-builder, to draw the grave
for the mausoleum, and to tell him at the same time that he was not to
play the statist, but enter earnestly into his part as one of the
performers.

Embarrassed as the Architect outwardly appeared (for in his black,
close-fitting, modern civilian's dress, he formed a wonderful contrast
with the gauze crape fringes, tinsel tassels, and crown), he very soon
composed himself internally, and the scene became all the more strange.
With the greatest gravity he placed himself in front of the tablet,