The sea-wind was still
warm and gusty, and the waves in the Grand Canal beat against the marble
feet of its palaces.
At last she found her way through narrow passages, past hidden and
historic buildings, to the back of the palace on the Grand Canal in
which their rooms were. A door in a small court opened to her ring. She
found herself in a dark ground-floor--empty except for the
felze or
black top of a gondola--of which the farther doors opened on the canal.
A cheerful Italian servant brought lights, and on the marble stairs was
her maid waiting for her. In a few minutes she was on her sofa by a
bright wood fire, while Blanche hovered round her with many small
attentions.
"Have you seen your letters, my lady?" and Blanche handed her a pile.
Upon a parcel lying uppermost Kitty pounced at once with avidity. She
tore it open--pausing once, with scarlet cheeks, to look round her at
the door, as though she were afraid of being seen.
A book--fresh and new--emerged.
Politics and the Country Houses; so
ran the title on the back. Kitty looked at it frowning. "He might have
found a better name!" Then she opened it--looked at a page here and a
page there--laughed, shivered--and at last bethought her to read the
note from the publisher which accompanied it.
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