House-hunting-Romantic Marriage-Spanish Nobility.

DEAR E.-We have been house-hunting. Thinking it would be pleasanter to be in the country, L- has been ransacking the country round for a pleasant residence. The Riviera, as it is called, or the shores of the Mediterranean, on either side of the city, furnishes the most charming place for country-seats in the world. The ground rises immediately from the sea, terraced, as it goes, into vineyards. After a vast deal of talking, riding, and seeing, Lhad finally concluded that one of two must be the choice; so the next day we all got into a carriage, and rode out to see the one on the east side of the city. Passing by the grand and little Paradises, we emerged on to the sea shore, and trotted away for Noli.

The building was finely furnished and commanded a beautiful prospect, but the entrance to it was from a narrow street, and Mrs. L― threw in her veto (as all ladies in such circum- ́ stances, you know, have a right to do). There is quite a little romance connected with this building. It was formerly erected and owned by a wealthy man, who was in the habit of visiting a beautiful peasant girl in the neighborhood. Pleased with his attention, she cast off, as ladies are very apt to do, the rustic lover she had before encouraged. But although her new admirer was frequent and steady in his visits, he never mentioned the subject of matrimony. Things went on in this way for three years, till one night the gentleman was startled, as he was about leaving the house, by the abrupt entrance of the two brothers of the inamorata, demanding that he should immediately marry their sister. They told him that he had visited her for three years, thus keeping away other suitors, and destroying all hopes of their sister's marriage except with him: three years were

quite long enough for him to make up his mind in, and as he had not done it, they had concluded to do it for him. This was bringing things to a focus he had not anticipated. For a man of wealth and station to marry a poor peasant girl, merely because he condescended to be smitten by her beauty, was something more than a joke; yet he saw at a glance that there was more meant by those brothers' speech than met the ear-in short, that his choice was to be a marriage or a stiletto through his heart. This was reducing things to the simplest terms; rather too simple for the wealthy admirer.

The trembling, weeping girl, the bold, reckless brothers, and the embarrassed gentleman, must have formed a capital group in a peasant's cottage. At length Signor attempted to compromise the matter by saying that then was not the time, nor there the place, to celebrate such a ceremony; besides there was no priest, and the proper way would be to talk over the subject together in the morning. One of the brothers leaned back and rapped slightly on a side door; it opened, and a priest, with his noiseless, cat-like tread, entered the circle. "Here is a priest," Isaid the brothers. There was a short interval of silence, when Signor made a slight movement towards the door. Two daggers instantly gleamed before him. He saw that it was all over with him—that the three years of courtship were going to amount to something after all-and so yielded with as good grace as possible, and the nuptials were performed. Like a man of sense, he immediately placed his wife in a convent to be educated, while he, in the mean time, bought a title. Years passed by, and the ignorant peasant-girl emerged into the fashionable world, an accomplished woman. She is now a widow, and is

called the beautiful Countess of

I was amused with an illustration of Italian character, in an incident that occurred while visiting another house that the owners wished to let. A woman showed us over the rooms and grounds, whose manners were much superior to those of a servant, while her dress was not. As this service is usually done by servants, and indeed is one of the perquisites of their situation, Lposed, of course, that a fee was expected. Having no small change, he asked me to give her some money; but there was

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something about the woman that made me instinctively shrink from doing it, so I gave him the piece and he presented it to her. She colored up to her very temples, smiled in most charming confusion, and discerning, with a woman's quick perception, the cause of the mistake, began to apologise for her dress, saying we had taken her quite by surprise. After all possible apologies were made on our part, L- turned to me, with a most comical look, and said in English, "I mistrusted as much, but really we are not to blame; she need not dress so shockingly." A minute after she disappeard, leaving us strolling in the garden, mortified at our mistake, and regretting the shock we had given the dear creature's feelings.

Judging her by ladies in general, we expected of course to see no more of her, and fancied her sitting within her room, looking the personification of contempt at our want of penetration. But silent contempt is not an Italian woman's mode of revenge. To our surprise, just as we were leaving the gate, a cheerful voice called out to us, and lo! there came tripping up our abused lady, with some special information about the house, which she had forgotten to mention. The additional information, of course, was all smoke, but not so her personal appearance. In the short time she had been absent, she had doffed her sluttish apparel, es⚫pecially the villainous handkerchief she wore on her neck, and which would have ruined the beauty of Venus herself, and unpinned her raven curls, which were left floating coquettishly about her shoulders, and advanced, showing the most brilliant set of teeth, and smiling, oh! so naturally. The little witch knew she was handsome, and saw by our looks and most deferential air, that she had achieved a victory. She had doubled our mortification, and left us with the full belief that she was a downright handsome woman.

This incident, trifling as it seemed, was a whole chapter on Italian character. An English or American woman would have treated the whole thing with sovereign contempt, and gained by it-nothing; for nobody but herself would have known it. An Italian woman has pride, but it works in an entirely different way. To her, dignity and woman's rights are nothing; but vic

tory—everything; and there is nothing she will not submit to, in order to gain it.

To-day we have been to look at a palace, six miles distant, on the other side of the city. It is now occupied by the family of an exiled Spanish duke, the duke himself having recently died. The entrance to it is through an iron gate, and up an avenue lined with hedges of box-wood and rows of trees. In front is a semicircular area, filled with statuary, orange, lemon trees, and grape vines. You ascend by a flight of steps into the lower entrance, and then by a marble staircase into the grand reception room, which is hung round with old paintings. In one part of the building is a beautiful chapel. Entering at length the door of the sitting-room, we beheld the two daughters of the old duke at their work. They rose as we entered, and two more striking women I never met. They were dressed in deep mourning, and their raven hair was parted plain and smooth, over as polished brows as ever sculptor perfected.

Near by stands the old palace of Prince Doria, empty, and fast sinking to ruins. The keeper of it found we were househunting, and sent to have us look at his "palazzo." It was well worth seeing, both for its antiquity and noble name; but the mirrors were marred, the paintings moth-eaten, the old furniture rotted away, and the whole interior so forlorn and ruinous, that it made me shudder to walk through it. Up the long avenue that stretched away below me, the mailed crusader had galloped on his war steed, and the area under the window had been filled with shaking lances. Knights and warriors had once made the room in which I sat ring with their revels.

But while my fancy, as is usual in such cases, was galloping off at tip-top speed, it was suddenly brought to a dead stand-still, by L's quietly drawing himself up and asking the attendant if he did not think the price asked for the old concern was rather too high? Shade of Don Quixotte! how knights, and high-born ladies, and fierce old crusaders, scampered away at that question! I sat down and laughed, till the old keeper thought I was demented. L— turned, half comical and half inquiring, towards me, and I exclaimed, "Only think, Charlie-that old fellow is showing this old princely palace over to us two young republicans, with

DORIA PALACE.

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as much gravity and deference as if the blood of a thousand kings flowed in our veins. Oh! money, thou leveller of kings: nay, thyself a king; every inch a king!"" Well, J———," said my friend, "how would you like it here, any how?" "Like it!" said I, " why, I should be frightened to death to stay here over night. I would no more sleep here, than I would sleep in a goblin castle. I should expect to sink through six or seven floors before morning, and finally wake up a mile or two under ground."

The grounds of the palace, however, were magnificent, and the fountains, and orange groves in them, and quiet lakes, with their fairy islands and shady walks, were becoming a prince's retreat. You could walk miles under the shade of trees, amid fountains and statuary, without retracing the steps.

To-night we have had a council over the different places of residence. They were all finally reduced to two, and the veto power lay of course in Mrs. L- -'s hands. L- stoutly declared that my vote was worth nothing, as it would be thrown of course for the palace in which the two beautiful Spaniards were. Mrs. L- however, decided on that herself, and so, as we say at home, the thing "is fixed," and we move our traps next week. Yours, &c.