wall of a garden. The carriage halted at a doorway in the wall. The
weather-worn door stood wide. The passengers alighted, and at the
master's nod the coachman drove away to the stable. A broad path led
through a chestnut avenue to the house, which at first sight had an
almost neglected appearance. Casanova's attention was especially
attracted by a broken window in the first story. Nor did it escape his
notice that the battlements of the squat tower were crumbling in places.
But the house door was gracefully carved; and directly he entered
the hall it was plain that the interior was carefully kept, and was
certainly in far better condition than might have been supposed from the
outward aspect.

"Amalia," shouted Olivo, so loudly that the vaulted ceiling rang. "Come
down as quickly as you can! I have brought a friend home with me, an old
friend whom you'll be delighted to see!"

Amalia had already appeared on the stairs, although to most of those
who had just come out of the glaring sunlight she was invisible in the
twilit interior. Casanova, whose keen vision enabled him to see well
even in the dark, had noted her presence sooner than Olivo. He smiled,
and was aware that the smile made him look younger. Amalia had not grown
fat, as he had feared. She was still slim and youthful. She recognized
him instantly.

"What a pleasant surprise!" she exclaimed without the slightest
embarrassment, hastening down the stairs, and offering her cheek to
Casanova. The latter, nothing loath, gave her a friendly hug.

"Am I really to believe," said he, "that Maria, Nanetta, and Teresina
are your very own daughters, Amalia? No doubt the passage of the years