win a prize there," said one of the group.

"That would be too bad-the richest heiress in Florence to throw
herself away thus!"

"'There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip,'" quoted the
English consul, and then walking away.

And thus Carlton was the unconscious theme of comment to a large
portion of the assembly. But the hour approaches when the heavy bell
of the palace strikes the midnight hour, and the masquerade will be
broken up, and each and all appear before each other in their true
characters. Peasant girls will don the attire more fitting their
station; kings and queens will descend to their true estates;
brigands will lay by the threatening paraphernalia of the
mountain-robber, and hooded monks will assume a more worldly attire.
The hour is struck, and the scene changes!

All is once more life and gayety, but the mask is discarded, and
each one is undisguised. See, as the grand chamberlain, with the
golden key of office wrought ostentatiously upon his ample velvet
mantle, aids in arranging the preliminaries of the dance, he pauses
to address with respect, and yet with a degree of familiarity, a
tall, manly person of noble bearing, and of handsome features,
opposite to whom stands, as partner for the dance, Signora Florinda,
the duke's ward. The queenly beauty of her person is the same as
when we first met her, so lovely and captivating. The few months
which have intervened since that period, have only served still more
to perfect her ripening mould; and though scarcely nineteen summers
have shed their golden wealth upon that genial land since her natal