the archbishops, and the canons, and the vicars,
and the deacons, and the precentors, and
postcentors, and the acolytes, and the little boys in
scarlet gowns swinging their fragrant censers, all
in their best array. And everybody bows to
everybody else, bows to the right and bows to
the left, and the soldiers line the huge nave, and
"salute the host" by banging their firelocks on
the pavement; and thus the year is well begun
by a general performance of religious duties.

But for the nobles of the court circle this
state procession to church, and the previous
assembling at the grand-ducal palace, is also a
duty of etiquette towards the sovereign. It was
"expected" that the grandees should pay their
compliments personally on that day at the Pitti.
And as the mass was at an early hour, and the
reception at the palace consequently at one still
more matutinal, and as Salviati had to go into
the city from the villa, it behoved him to be
afoot at a somewhat earlier hour than usual.

The servants at the villa, for their part, were
all up and prepared for the great day, by times.
Indeed, there was enough to be done. There was
the great state carriage to be got out and prepared,
and there were the six great state horses to be
caparisoned. And all this had to be done in duplicate
—one great state carriage to convey his excellency
the duke to the Pitti, and another great
state carriage to carry her excellency the duchess.
The same portentously clumsy "leathern
conveniency" could not suffice for the pair—forbid it
etiquette! A duke and duchess jog to court
Darby-and-Joan-wise cheek-by-jowl! Faugh!
And then all the spick-and-span new liveries,
cumbrous with worsted lace, and silver lace,
and gold lace, according to the rank of the
wearer in the servants' hall hierarchy, had to be
fitted on. A special messenger, too, had to be
despatched to the city early that morning. For my
lord's new gorgeously embroidered state coat
had not come home overnight— the last possible
moment being then, as even to the present day,
deemed the best in Tuscany for the transaction
of all such business. And there would have
been trouble in the household if my lord duke
had risen on the New Year's morn, and demanding,
as it was felt he naturally would, his new
embroidered coat with his first waking words,
were prevented from forthwith contemplating it.

Fortunately the magnificent garment, the fruit
of many a long winter night's vigil, during which
wary eyes and skilful fingers had laboured at
their dainty work, arrived, just as the silver-
embossed hand-bell—(sold, very likely, at the Hotel
Drouot to some banker's favourite sultana the
other day)—which stood by the duke's bedside,
announced to expectant valetdom the fact of his
waking. But behold! the change in Jacopo
Salviati, which had occasioned so much speculation
at court, produces its strange results to the
minutely observant eyes of his servants also.
His excellency's first thought on this New Year's
morning of 1639, has not reference to his own
personal adornment!

"Luigi!"

"Eccellenza! A happy new year to your lordship,
and may every succeeding one outdo the
felicity of its predecessor."

Luigi had got that up carefully overnight,
under Francesca's tuition, in the servants' hall.

"Any pretty little compliment will do with
my lord," said she. "You have an easy task
with him, you gentlemen of the chamber. If the
sun shines, and certain sunny eyes we wot of
shine as brightly (and I don't think his lordship
is likely to look into many sombre ones outside
this weary villa), he is sure to be easily pleased.
But, by all the saints, we women have a very
different job with my lady."

"I declare," continued Luigi, "the sun is
shining brighter, as is only natural, since your
lordship has awaked."

"Very likely. The day grows older. I think
I must recommend you at court, friend Luigi,
for a lord in waiting; your talents in flattery are
quite thrown away here. But, I want to know
whether the casket that came home from the
Ponte Vecchio* last night was sent off this morning
according to my orders?"

* The Ponte Vecchio is, and for centuries has
been, the principal habitat in Florence of the jewellers
and goldsmiths. The shops on the bridge are
occupied by them almost exclusively.

"Eccellenza, it was."

"Has the messenger returned?"

"Not yet, my lord."

"How long is it since he started on his
errand?"

"Nearly three hours, your excellency. He set
off long before sunrise."

"Three hours! and the lazy dog is not here to
give an account of his mission! Who took the
packet?"

"Tonino, my lord, on the roan mare. But his
orders were, according to your excellency's directions,
to give the packet into no hands save those
of the Lady Caterina herself. And it may well be
that he had to await her rising."

"Humph! Caterina is not wont to be a laggard
in the morning," he muttered to himself rather
than to the servant; "and the sun has been up
an hour or more. Maybe those rake-hells,
Carlini and Serselli, kept the revel up late last night,
and sweet Kate's pretty eyes are heavy this morning.
When they did open, I flatter myself they
brightened a little at the first New Year's gift
they lit on. Pretty, sparkling eyes! How I can
fancy them laughing back the sheen of the
glittering stones as they flashed up at her from their
black velvet bed. Ah! Messer Guido, choose as
you may the most brilliant diamonds in all your
stock, cut them and polish them as you will, they
are no match for the eyes you have pitted them
against. Your choicest pearls will but lose their
colour against that skin. I think I see the pleased
smile mantling over those full curved lips as she
takes the baubles from their casket and tries the
effect of them on that snowy neck and peerless
brow. Luigi!"