the lines of the mediaeval brickwork. Sprays of wild-ivy cling to the
empty loop-holes, through which the blue sky peeps.

The lesser of the two palaces--the one on the right hand as you ascend
the street of San Simone coming from the cathedral--is more decorated
to-day than any other in Lucca. A heavy sea of Leghorn hats and black
veils, with male accompaniments, is crowded beneath. They stare upward
and murmur with delight. Gold and silver stuffs, satin and taffeta,
striped brocades, and rich embroideries, flutter from the clustered
casement up to the overhanging roof. There are many flags (one with
a coat-of-arms, amber and purple on a gold ground) blazing in
the sunshine. The grim brick façade is festooned with wreaths of
freshly-plucked roses. Before the low-arched entrance on the pavement
there is a carpet of flower-petals fashioned into a monogram, bearing
the letters "M.N." Just within the entrance stands a porter, leaning
on a gold staff, as immovable in aspect as are the mediaeval walls
that close in behind him. A badge or baldric is passed across his
chest; he is otherwise so enveloped with gold-lace, embroidery,
buttons, trencher, and cocked-hat, that the whole inner man is
absorbed, not to say invisible. Beside him, in the livery of the
house, tall valets grin, lounge, and ogle the passers-by (wearers
of Leghorn hats, and veils, and white head-gear generally). This
particular Guinigi Palace belongs to Count Mario Nobili. He bought
it of the Marchesa Guinigi, who lives opposite. Nobili is the richest
young man in Lucca. No one calls upon him for help in vain; but, let
it be added, no one offends him with impunity. When Nobili first came
to Lucca, the old families looked coldly at him, his nobility being
of very recent date. It was bestowed on his father, a successful
banker--some said usurer, some said worse--by the Grand-duke Leopold,
for substantial assistance toward his pet hobby--the magnificent road