less minutes to put the finishing touches to the charming morning
toilette which replaced the gorgeous Venetian costume she had taken
off, the bagarino which carried her and Ludovico would infallibly
have overtaken the young artist. As it was, however, having more
than half-an-hour's start of it, she reached the church before they
came within sight of it.

Little Paolina had felt rather nervous when first stepping into the
cool fresh morning air from the door of the lodging she occupied.
But the street was utterly empty, and she took courage. The first
human beings she saw on her way were the octroi officers at the
gate. They sat apparently half asleep at the doorway of their den,
by the side of the city gate, wrapped in huge cloaks; and took not
even so much heed of her as to say "Good morning."

The long bit of straight flat road outside the gate was equally
deserted; and Paolina, braced by the morning air, stepped out
vigorously, and began to enjoy her walk.

There is little enough, however, in the country through which she
was passing to delight the eye. The fields in the immediate
neighbourhood of the city are cultivated, and not devoid of trees.
But the cheerfulness thence arising does not last long. Very soon
the trees cease, and there are no more hedge-rows. Large flat
fields, imperfectly covered with coarse rank grass, and divided by
the numerous branches of streams, all more or less diked to save the
land from complete inundation, succeed. The road is a causeway
raised above the level of the surrounding district; and presently a
huge lofty bank is seen traversing the desolate scene for miles, and
stretching away towards the shore of the neighbouring Adriatic. This