The carriage drove on through the park. The Castle was decked with flags and banners, fluttering merrily in the breeze; all the doors were wreathed; here a dense crowd--part of which had hastened by a short cut from the triumphal arch, and were thus in advance--received them with renewed cheers. Blanden was deeply moved, and pressed his betrothed's hand; he knew that it was true hearty love which bade them welcome. He thought of his father, of the old lords of the Castle--they blessed his entry. His feelings were solemn as he lifted his future bride out of the carriage and led her into the Castle, where he delivered her into the hands of the guardian spirits of his home. When Giulia was seated alone in her room, for a few moments she gave herself up to a sensation of luxurious comfort; how strange was it for a wandering disciple of art to have a home, to reign as mistress over a vast estate! No more need she trouble about the gains of the moment, no more need she struggle from day to day for a living, competing for fame and gold, and the favour of the variable crowd which alone could grant both to her. The labour of art in the muses' temple appeared like a miserable daily task, which is forced from the reluctant senses, while only the holiness of enthusiasm sanctifies the artistic duty! From country to country had she wandered with her nomad tent, tarrying long wherever she had found plentiful pastures; but how many dangers did the pirates of criticism prepare for her, by how many _fata morgana_ had she been deceived--how homeless was her life, her soul! What a sensation of security behind the stout walls of this Castle; for decades, for a whole life-time, every struggle with its necessities was banished, a life belonging to itself, one not given up to the mob! And how one must learn to love every little spot of earth which, by the habit of long association and possession, has become a portion of ourselves! Without, the trees rustled, the eastern sky glanced in the reflection of the declining sun, and the evening star, the star of love, peeped forth in the vapour-like clouds that were tinged with a delicate red. Yonder the tall oaks, the silver poplars, and Scotch firs; the pavilion with its gay windows peeping out of the Chinese shrubs that surrounded it; the bridge over the lake; upon the island stood the swans' houses: at first all seemed but a pretty picture for her contemplation, but from day to day it must all become blended into her life--every spot, sanctified by love, become endeared to her heart.