none of them having published anything; and he has recourse to these manuscripts on every difficult case, the veracity of which, at least, is unquestionable.  His vivacity is prodigious, and he is indefatigable in his industry:  but what most distinguishes him is a disinterestedness I never saw in any other:  he is as regular in his attendance on the poorest peasant, from whom he never can receive one farthing, as on the richest of the nobility; and, whenever he is wanted, will climb three or four miles in the mountains, in the hottest sun, or heaviest rain, where a horse cannot go, to arrive at a cottage, where, if their condition requires it, he does not only give them advice and medicines gratis, but bread, wine, and whatever is needful.  There never passes a week without one or more of these expeditions.  His last visit is generally to me.  I often see him as dirty and tired as a foot post, having eat nothing all day but a roll or two that he carries in his pocket, yet blest with such a perpetual flow of spirits, he is always gay to a degree above cheerfulness.  There is a peculiarity in his character that I hope will incline you to forgive my drawing it.”

It was probably by the advice of her physician that Lady Mary decided to make Lovere her headquarters.  He prescribed taking the waters there and a long rest.  Lovere was a dull place, visitors coming only during the water-drinking season.  The plague that overran Europe in 1626 had ravaged it:  the poor were almost destroyed, and the rich deserted it.  A few of the ancient palaces had been turned into lodging-houses; the rest were in ruinous condition.  Lady Mary bought one of the palaces.

“I see you lift up your eyes in wonder at my indiscretion.  I beg you to hear my reasons before you condemn me.  In my infirm state of health the unavoidable noise of a public lodging is very disagreeable; and here is no private one:  secondly, and chiefly, the whole purchase is but one hundred pounds, with a very pretty garden in terraces down to the water, and a court behind the house.  It is founded on a rock, and the walls so thick, they will probably remain as long as the earth.  It is true, the apartments are in most tattered circumstances, without doors or windows.  The beauty of the great saloon gained my affection:  it is forty-two feet in length by twenty-five, proportionably high, opening into a balcony of the same length, with marble balusters:  the ceiling and flooring are in good repair, but I have been forced to the expense of covering the wall with new stucco; and the carpenter is at this minute taking measure of the windows, in order to make frames for sashes.  The great stairs are in such a declining way, it would be a very hazardous exploit to mount them:  I never intend to attempt it.  The state bedchamber shall also remain for the sole use of the spiders that have taken possession of it, along with the grand cabinet, and some other pieces of magnificence, quite useless to me, and which would cost a great deal