‘And what said the good Father?’

‘He shook his head,’ said Vittorio.

‘When Father Francisco shakes his head, he means a great deal,’ said his companion.

At this moment a servant appeared on the terrace, to say the ladies were at hand; and very shortly afterwards Lady Annabel Herbert, with her daughter leaning on her arm, descended the steps, and entered the boat.  The countenances of the boatmen brightened when they saw them, and they both made their inquiries after the health of Venetia with tenderness and feeling.

‘Indeed, my good friends,’ said Venetia, ’I think you are right, and the lake will cure me after all.’

‘The blessing of the lake be upon you, signora,’ said the boatmen, crossing themselves.

Just as they were moving off, came running Mistress Pauncefort, quite breathless.  ’Miss Herbert’s fur cloak, my lady; you told me to remember, my lady, and I cannot think how I forgot it.  But I really have been so very hot all day, that such a thing as furs never entered my head.  And for my part, until I travelled, I always thought furs were only worn in Russia.  But live and learn, as I say.’

They were now fairly floating on the calm, clear waters, and the rising breeze was as grateful to Venetia as the boatmen had imagined.

A return of those symptoms which had before disquieted Lady Annabel for her daughter, and which were formerly the cause of their residence at Weymouth, had induced her, in compliance with the advice of her physicians, to visit Italy; but the fatigue of travel had exhausted the energies of Venetia (for in those days the Alps were not passed in luxurious travelling carriages) on the very threshold of the promised land; and Lady Annabel had been prevailed upon to take a villa on the Lago Maggiore, where Venetia had passed two months, still suffering indeed from great debility, but not without advantage.

There are few spots more favoured by nature than the Italian lakes and their vicinity, combining, as they do, the most sublime features of mountainous scenery with all the softer beauties and the varied luxuriance of the plain.  As the still, bright lake is to the rushing and troubled cataract, is Italy to Switzerland and Savoy.  Emerging from the chaotic ravines and the wild gorges of the Alps, the happy land breaks upon us like a beautiful vision.  We revel in the sunny light, after the unearthly glare of eternal snow.  Our sight seems renovated as we throw our eager glance over those golden plains, clothed with such picturesque trees, sparkling with such graceful villages, watered by such noble rivers, and crowned with such magnificent cities; and all bathed and beaming in an atmosphere so soft and radiant!  Every isolated object charms us with its beautiful novelty:  for the first time we gaze on palaces; the garden, the terrace, and the statue, recall our dreams beneath a colder sky; and we turn from these to catch the hallowed form of some cupolaed convent, crowning the gentle elevation of some green hill, and flanked by the cypress or the pine.