It was on a beautiful Spring morning, the third of February, 1859, that the Crown Princess approached her new home. All the roads leading to Bari were filled with curious sightseers, eager for a glimpse of the bride. All tongues were busy with praises of her beauty and goodness. Her name was on every lip; but instead of being called the Princess of Bavaria or Duchess of Calabria, she was and still is familiarly spoken of in Italy as Maria Sophia, to distinguish her from many of her predecessors on the throne who had borne the name of Maria. The whole royal family had journeyed to Bari to welcome her and were lodged on the first floor of the Intendant’s palace, where apartments had also been prepared for the Duchess of Calabria and her suite; but in spite of the joyous air of expectancy that pervaded the town, a dark cloud hung over the palace itself, owing to the condition of the King, who was confined to his bed and suffering greatly. He had looked forward with the deepest pleasure and interest to his son’s marriage, and it was a bitter disappointment to him not to be present at the wedding ceremonies. About ten o’clock in the morning, the thunder of cannon proclaimed the approach of the _Fulminante_ and the _Tancredo_. The troops lined up, the mayor of Bari and other dignitaries took their places in a pavilion which had been erected in the middle of the landing stage for the bride’s reception, while ten state equipages, escorted by a mounted guard, issued from the palace and drove down to the pavilion, where the Queen, with her stepson, the Duke of Calabria, and her little daughters, alighted and boarded a steam launch to go out to meet the Duchess. On the _Fulminante_, meanwhile, all was stir and excitement. The bride, as she stood on deck dressed in a handsome travelling costume, looked more than ever like her sister Elizabeth. She had the same wonderful dark blue eyes and rich brown hair; and although not so tall as the Empress, her figure was quite as beautifully formed. On this occasion her usual expression of childish innocence and gayety had given place to one of serious expectancy, and she was very pale, a result partly owing to fatigue, partly to emotions natural to the situation. During the journey she had plied Nina Rizzo and her new chamberlain with questions about her future husband; how he looked, how he behaved toward his parents, his brothers, and his subjects; and she had never tired of hearing tales of his childhood. To her naive inquiry as to whether Francis was really as disagreeable as he was said to be in Bavaria, both had done their best to reassure the Princess by expatiating on his good qualities.