and the baptismal name of my mother was the same as mine--Paolina."

"Jacopo and Paolina Foscarelli, who lived in the little house at the
corner of the Campo di San Pietro and Paolo," rejoined the monk,
speaking in a dreamy far-away kind of manner.

"I have truly heard that they lived there," said she; "but I was
only four years old when they died, one very soon after the other,
and since that I have lived with a friend of my mother's, Signora
Steno."

"The child of Jacopo and Paolina Foscarelli," said the monk, in the
same dreamy tone, and pressing his thin emaciated hands before his
eyes as he spoke; "and you have come here to find me?"

"Nay, father, not to find you. I knew not that the padre guardiano
of St. Apollinare was a Venetian. I came only to copy these pictures
for my employer."

"Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful are the ways of God! Paolina
Foscarelli, daughter of Jacopo and Paolina, I Fabiano---"

"Look, padre min!" cried Paolina, suddenly and sharply, turning very
pale, and grasping the parapet rung of the scaffolding as she spoke,
"look! in the bagarino there on the road, just passing the church;
certainly that must be the Signor Marchese Ludovico!--And with him--
that lady?--yes, it is--it certainly is La Lalli--the prima donna,
who has been singing at the theatre this Carnival."

She pointed as she spoke to a bagarino that had just passed the