The Osceola times., 1881-02-12
LA C0NTESSA.'
BY SIDNEY TREVOR.


| was driving on the Long 'Arno, IN
Florence, with my pretty cousin, Dora.
She was a beauty and an hcircss, and,
what was better, the incest girl in the
world When we were children, mar
riare had been arranged, by our mutual
parents. between rs. But Dora had re-
Gently fllan in love with an old college
chum Of mine, now the Rev. Arthur
Beaumont, whom we had met in Paris,
and who had followed MS to Italy; and, |
WAS doing all | could to help. We had
10 conceal our plans rs yet, however,
from Dora's mother. just now, aunt
Dodl had gone OH to Venice, with Lady
Anthorpc, an English acquaintance, leay-
ing her daughter in charge of Mrs. liy-
ingst0n, n mutua friend.
We had turned into the Nigna Nuoya,
when Dora cried, suddenly.
"Look there"
Against cracked old wall, where two
yellow butterflies iluttercd, in the late
spring sunshine. leaned the most pathe ic
looking figure / had ever seen. slender
with youth, and perhaps with want her
beautiful dark, deep eyes raised in dumb
solicitation, while her thin hand held
out a bunch of pale, early tulips, she
stood, basket Of similar blossoms at her
feet, guarded 10y n poor, halt-ied dog,
whose hanging head and thin ilanks re-
peated the hopeless depression Of the
girl face. A crowd Of persons went by,
Indifferent, and without purchasing.
Touched by her wcarcd look of despair,
even more than Dora's evident sympathy,
| tossed a bit of paper money to her,
which huttcrgd, and fell into the dirt of
the street. She started forward to pick
il up. glaucing up at ms with look of
thanks. The look, alas, cost her dear.
for at that instant a haud-cart, which
had escaped from its owner, came rush
ing down the slope from the Poute Cur
raja on a run and knocked her sense
less.
sprang ont of the carriage. without
waiting for the door TO be opened, though
Antonio. my servant, was on the box
with the coachman. Dora called, in eager
Ditv, leaning out of the window, to bring
the poor girl into the coach.
AntoniJ's inquiries soon resulted in di-
recting us to q small florists shop, in the
via san Jacopo, rs the poor flower girls
home. and we drove there instantly. She
was, however, still unconscious, when we
reached the small, open room, which
constituted the flower shop.
"Oh Dick, she is So light and thnn'
said Dora, piuNlly. And she looks
half starved
We were. Immediately, the center of a
sympathetic crowd, in the dark, narrow
street
at is the beautiful little countess, "
cried one
ct is she Poverina"
"What pity, poor angel"
What could they mean? But directly
a woman comes rushing out"
Here, Tonic ! cried, impatiently,
'help to lift her out and have bed pre-
pared, and a doctor Bat the woman
answered:
There is no one, signore mio, no one
to take care of her; and the bed has been
sold. She must go 90 the hospital fc r;
for her father is sick aud do,irious. He
must q there in day or so, and it i,
better that the coutc,~ina should 90 now.
and have the hospital doctor
Are there mo- furnished rooms in your
house 10 let2' | asked. YES, the pla-
card, Il the door, saws there are. let a
bed be prepared. in the best one; and the
flower-girl be placed in it,
IF the siguuriuo plcases," whispered
Antony, "hc will do better not to enter.
t. get down. he added rs Dora was about
20 leave the carriage All. yes, ~ TO an
inpatient gesture of mine, But do
now know all about it, They are so
poor, O Signom mio, and the old dura
would die rather than have a stranger
see his humiliation. When we return to
the hotel, / will tell ALL
VERY well, sIid Dora, making a gcs.
ture for me not TO speak 1--WE Will post
p ne futher words tin them
Alas said Antonio. alas. O Holy
Virgin with outstretched palms, that
a daughter of the duca, with quarterings
countless, should be driven to sell how-
crs FROM street correr' And there
were actually tears in his voice.
understand, Tonic" repeated my
cousin, "thc crl and her father are 10
want for nothing. | shall come, to-mor-
row, to see for myself if you have done
your best With that We drove Oft.
Later in the day, Antonio told his
story.
at is the Duke Alva Verona, the last
direct heir Of one Of the grandest titles in
Italy. Oresirs, his old valet. long ago
told me all about Alas, carino mio.
Orestes had helped support the duca and
his daughter, having place in a telegraph
Office, and serving his old master at odd
times. But he lost the place, two DAYS
ago, by season of the necessity for mu-
nieipal economies, since the king has
gone 10 Rome LEAVING the citv so In
debt. His bit,erost grief was to have 10
60 10 their little podere in the Romagna.
leaving the duca i'll, and his young mis-
tress, whom he had held in his arms as
baby, to the horrors of poverty. But
bread is dear, with twenty-five taxes up
on wheat between the earth and the
mouth; and Orestes had 10 20, with his
own two, or starve also. All. how did
the duca get 80 poor? His mother quar-.