Descending from the portico, she led her household attendants into the
garden. She alone appeared unveiled. The happiness of the many amongst
whom she immediately stepped touched every spring of enjoyment in her
being; her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, her spirit high; in a
word, the beauty so peculiarly hers, and which no one could look on
without consciousness of its influence, shone with singular enhancement.

News that she was in the garden spread rapidly, and where she went
everyone arose and remained standing. Now and then, while making
acknowledgments to groups along the way, she recognized acquaintances,
and for such, whether men or women, she had a smile, sometimes a word.
Upon her passing, they pursued with benisons, "God bless you!" "May the
Holy Mother keep her!" Not unfrequently children ran flinging flowers at
her feet, and mothers knelt and begged her blessing. They had lively
recollection of a sickness or other overtaking by sorrow, and of her
boat drawing to the landing laden with delicacies, and bringing what was
quite as welcome, the charm of her presence, with words inspiring hope
and trust. The vast, vociferous, premeditated Roman ovation, sonorously
the Triumph, never brought a Consular hero the satisfaction this
Christian woman now derived.

She was aware of the admiration which went with her, and the sensation
was of walking through a purer and brighter sunshine. Nor did she affect
to put aside the triumph there certainly was in the demonstration; but
she accounted it the due of charity--a triumph of good work done for the
pleasure there was in the doing.

At the basin mentioned as the landward terminus of the garden the
progress in that direction stopped. Thence, after gracious attentions to
the women and children there, the Princess set out for the summit of the