l city.

'People of sense don't judge a place at ten o'clock of a pitch-dark,
rainy night, especially if they are hungry, tired, and, excuse me, love,
rather cross,' returned Amanda, severely, as they piled into a carriage
and drove to Piazzi di Spagna.

'I see a divine fountain! A splendid palace! Now it's a statue of some
sort! I do believe that dark figure was a monk! I know I shall like it
in spite of everything,' cried Matilda excitedly, flattening her nose
against the window.

She had been much disappointed at not being able to enter Rome by
daylight, so that she might clasp her hands and cry aloud, half-stifled
with the overpowering emotions of the moment, 'Roma! Roma! the eternal
city, bursts upon my view!' That was the proper thing to do, and it was
a blow to make so commonplace and ignoble an entry into the city of her
dreams.

Early next morning, Livy was roused from slumber by cries of delight,
and, starting up, beheld her artist sister wrapped in a dressing-gown,
with dishevelled hair, staring out of the window, and murmuring
incoherently,--

'Spanish Steps, that's where the models sit. Propaganda, famous Jesuit
school. Hope I shall see the little students in their funny hats and
gowns. That's the great monument thing put up to settle the Immaculate
Conception fuss. Very fine, but the apostles look desperately tired of
holding it up. Dear old houses! Heavens! there's a _trattoria_ man with
somebody's breakfast on his head! Don't see any costumes. Where are the
sheepskin suits? the red skirts and white head-cloths? Girl with
flowers. Oh, how lovely! Mercy on us, there's an officer staring up
here, and I never saw him!'

In came the blond head, and the blue dressing-gown vanished from the
eyes of the handsome soldier who had been attitudinizing with his high
boots, gray and scarlet cloak, jingling sword, and becoming _barrette_
cap, for the especial benefit of the enraptured stranger.

'Livy, it is just superb! Get up and come out at once. It is clouding
up, and I must have one look or lose my mind,' said Matilda, flying
about with unusual energy.

'You will have to get used to rain if you stay here long, my child,'
returned the Raven.

And she was right. It poured steadily for two months, with occasional
flurries of snow, also thunder, likewise hurricanes, the tramontana, the
sirocco, and all the other charming features of an Italian winter. That
nothing might be wanting, a nice little inundation