That was the age of villa building in Italy, and, as I have shown in a previous part of this work, some of the noblest architects that the world ever produced had already appeared, and produced specimens of a new and characteristic style, unsurpassed by any other efforts. Imola was surrounded by villas, but there was one more costly and extensive than any of the rest, which hung upon the hill-side, with gardens, and terraces, and fountains round about. The villa now belonged to Ramiro d'Orco, and thither he would often retire, after the labours of the day were over, to walk, solitary and thoughtful, as was his wont, under the great stone-pines which lined the avenue. It was the favourite home of Leonora; for, though she was so much changed in every habit, if not in every thought, there was one exception--she still loved to sit beneath the trees or upon a terrace, whence she could see over a wide landscape. She no longer sought absolute solitude, it is true; she suffered herself not to be plunged into those deep fits of thought, which had been her only comfort during Lorenzo's long absence at Naples. Usually she had one of her maids with her, well-educated girls, who could converse, though not very profoundly; and their light talk, though it did not always wean her mind from the subjects on which it was bent, just sufficed to ripple the too still waters of meditation. She was thus seated one afternoon, just in the beginning of the autumn, in an angle of the gardens, whence she could see on all sides around but one, with a girl named Carlotta at her feet. If there be aught on earth which deserves the name of divine, it is the weather in some parts of Italy when the summer has lost its full heat, and the autumn knows nothing yet of wintry chill, when the grape is just beginning to grow purple, and the cheek of the fig looks warm. Such was that day, and it would seem that the balmy influence of the air and the brightness of the scene had their influence upon poor Leonora, bringing back some of the gaiety and sportiveness of other years. "So, foolish Carlotta," said her mistress, "you must needs go down to the dusty town this morning--to see your lover, I warrant, and arrange for this wedding I have heard of." Carlotta blushed and smiled, and said "Ay;" and her mistress gave her a tap upon the cheek, exclaiming-- "Out upon you, silly girl! can you not be content without making yourself a slave?" "It is woman's nature, lady," replied the girl; "we all like to be slaves to those we love. I do believe that there is no woman who does not wish to marry; and do you know, lady, that people wonder that you have never given your hand to any one."