SIGNOR MONALDINI'S NIECE.

CHAPTER I.

THE PALACE OF THE NAIAD.

THE history of the Palace of the Naiad is very like that of the Prodigal Son. It was built by a Roman prince, and given to his favourite daughter on her marriage. It had its days of splendour, when coronets were carved, painted, embroidered, or mosaicked in and upon every part of it; when fine carriages rolled under its beautiful portone, and it was as familiar with the scarlet stockings of cardinals, as with the red of morning and evening skies. More so, indeed: since gold is the rule, and red the exception, of Italian sunsets; the Roman skies, particularly, seldom condescending to any other colours than the blue of the Immaculata, and the gold of the Infallible.

In these fine days, when the young princess lived proudly in her house-a house not inherited from mouldering generations, each leaving a stain on the walls and a ghost on the stair, but freshly made for her as the world for Eve-the neighbours had employment for their eyes in peeping through the blinds. There were stately and select breakfast-parties, chiefly ecclesiastical, gayer dinners, and gayest