for the budding nobility of Savoy. In one division of the
sumptuous building were housed his Majesty's pages, a corps of luxurious
indolent young fops; another wing accommodated the regular students of
the Academy, sons of noblemen and gentlemen destined for the secular
life, while a third was set aside for the "forestieri" or students from
foreign countries and from the other Italian states. To this quarter Odo
Valsecca was allotted; though it was understood that on leaving the
Academy he was to enter the Sardinian service.

It was customary for a young gentleman of Odo's rank to be attended at
the Academy not only by a body-servant but by a private governor or
pedant, whose business it was to overlook his studies, attend him
abroad, and have an eye to the society he frequented. The old Marquess
of Donnaz had sent his daughter, by Odo's hand, a letter recommending
her to select her son's governor with particular care, choosing rather a
person of grave behaviour and assured morality than one of your glib
ink-spatterers who may know the inside of all the folios in the King's
library without being the better qualified for the direction of a young
gentleman's conduct; and to this letter Don Gervaso appended the terse
postcript: "Your excellency is especially warned against according this
or any other position of trust to the merry-andrew who calls himself the
abate Cantapresto."

Donna Laura, with a shrug, handed the letter to her husband; Count
Valdu, adjusting his glasses, observed it was notorious that people
living in the depths of the country thought themselves qualified to
instruct their city relatives on all points connected with the social
usages; and the cicisbeo suggested that he could recommend an abate who
was proficient in the construction of the Martellian verse, and who
would made no extra charge for that accomplishment.

"Charges!" the Countess cried. "There's a matter my father doesn't deign
to consider. It's not enough, nowadays, to give the lads a governor, but
they must maintain their servants too, an idle gluttonous crew that prey
on their pockets and get a commission off every tradesman's bill."

Count Valdu lifted a deprecating hand.

"My dear, nothing could be more offensive to his Majesty than any
attempt to reduce the way of living of the pupils of the Academy."

"Of course," she shrugged--"But who's to pay? The Duke's beggarly
pittance hardly clothes him."

The cicisbeo suggested that the