Mumbie was in particular composed of the finest and most costly stones. Mrs. Mumbie was profuse and almost abject in her acknowledgments and thanks to dear Edna. Could that generous young heart have known that this velvety woman had been treacherously intercepting her correspondence--rifling the depositaries of her secret thoughts, she would have shrunk from her as from a reptile. But to youthful innocence baseness such as this exists not. The next winter was spent in Italy, chiefly in Rome. Edna's enthusiasm for the glorious old city knew no bounds. Between sight-seeing and shopping she had not an idle moment. The quantities of silken sashes and jewels of coral and mosaic she bought for presents, and the money she spent and flung away to lazzaroni, would have driven her grandfather Obershaw as wild as Shylock was at Jessica's extravagance. She created a great sensation among the artists. The sculptors wanted to model her lips and chin, and the painters raved about her hair and complexion; altogether, between the studios, the ruins, the Carnival, and what not, she was having, as she expressed it in her correspondence with Miss Hull, "a splendid time." There was a long postscript to that letter to this effect: P.S. You remember I mentioned in my last, that we had engaged a new courier in Paris, a handsome Italian named Luigi, who was so very refined and _distingué_-looking, and such an excellent linguist. Well the secret is out! He is a Count, and his name is Borgia, Count Gasparone Alessandro Borgia, a scion of the illustrious family of that name--just think of it! He betrayed himself to Ada in an unguarded moment. He was stripped of his patrimony by confiscation, and adopted his present vocation the better to elude the malignity of his enemies, who are continually seeking to persecute him. Who those enemies are, I do not clearly understand. Sometimes he says they are the Jesuits, and at other times he accuses Mazzini and the red-republicans. He hints also at hereditary foes of his house, the Orsini and Sforzi. Evidently he shrinks with intuitive delicacy from speaking of himself and his misfortunes, and feels his position keenly. Ada caught him in tears once or twice mourning the decadence of his house. He assured her, on his word of honor, that all the stories that were in circulation respecting the poisoning propensities of his family are malicious falsehoods, and is very indignant at the outrageous way in which the dramatists have treated his distinguished ancestress--and I don't wonder at his anger. I think he says she was his great-great-grand-aunt; but I won't be certain. Since we have learned his title and rank, we have all felt a delicacy in treating him as a courier. Mr. Mumbie almost insisted on his taking his meals with us, but he firmly, and dignifiedly refused, which I