So goes the world.  If ill fortune betide us, how many stand ready to give us a push on our downward course, and to scoff at our misery; but let the tide turn and set favorably on our bark, and none are so ready to do obeisance as those very curs who have barked and growled at us the loudest.  Carlton, the court favorite, the unrivalled artist, the now liberal and wealthy Carlton, was a very different person from the threadbare artist who turned from his companions on the piazza at noonday.

He retraced his steps towards the grand gallery at that time, faint and hungry, because he had not the means to procure for himself a dinner, avoiding his fellow-artists to escape the mortification of expressing the extent of his poverty and want.

Carlton was in doubt as to the most proper course for him to pursue.  He hardly dared to lay the matter in its present form before the duke, lest it might seem impertinent and obtrusive in him towards one who had already extended unprecedented kindness and protection towards him; and yet he knew no other source upon which he might rely.  In this dilemma, Carlton grew quite dejected.  He was one of those persons who, notwithstanding he possessed a strong mind and determination of purpose, was easily elated or depressed in his spirits; and the present state of affairs rendered him sad enough.

He was rudely repulsed in every endeavor to gain an audience of Florinda by the menials of Signor Latrezzi-who had been instructed to this effect by their master-and Carlton was obliged to content himself with an epistolary communication, having to conduct even this in secret.

At length one day, finding the duke in a happy mood and at leisure, he frankly stated the matter to him as it actually existed, and begged of him to advise him what course to pursue in the case.

“Signor Carlton,” said the duke, kindly, after hearing him to the end, “I have little love for this uncle of Florinda’s, and therefore avoid any issue with him, or I would openly express my wishes on this point.  But as it is, Signor Americano, there are fleet horses in Florence, and ready postilions about the gates of the city, who know the route to Bologna over the mountains!  Thou hast ridden in a cabriolet, signor?”

“A cabriolet?” repeated Carlton, inquiringly.

“Yes, there are plenty in Florence.”

“Your highness is pleased to be facetious.”

“Not at all.”

“Then why speak of cabriolets in this connection?”

“Canst not take the hint?”

“Your excellenza speaks in riddles.”

“One of thy discernment, Signor Carlton, should understand me.”

“Would your excellenza have me clo—­”

“I would not have you do anything but that which your own judgment should approve,” interrupted the duke.

“Thanks, excellenza, I understand you.”

“You may be assured of my friendship in all cases when it can be reasonably exercised,” continued the duke.