EDITH SYDNEY: A Tale. BY F. M. OXENHA M. LONDON: 17 & 18, PORTMAN STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE, AND 63, PATERNOSTER ROW. MDCCCLXVIII. [All rights reserved.] Dedicated, by Permission, то THE VERY REV. F. ELZEAR TORREGIANI, TO WHOSE SELF-DEVOTION AND PERSEVERING ZEAL, THE MISSIONS, FOR WHOSE BENEFIT THIS LITTLE WORK IS PUBLISHED, EDITH SYDNEY. CHAPTER I. There are who sigh that no fond heart is theirs ; "Bella Napoli! What a world of bright sunny memories or of glowing imaginations these two words contain! "Beautiful," absolutely and perfectly beautiful, is the undisputed, unchallenged title of the Bay of Naples. Venice, the City of the Sea, on her thousand islands, with her magnificent palaces, the very ruins of which are more noble than any buildings the world will ever see again-Venice, once more than royal in her magnificence, sits an uncrowned queen watching the silent, ceaseless beating of the waves upon the steps of her throne. Genoa, with her wealth and her pride, is almost a forgotten name; while Naples, who never had either Doge, or painter, or merchant, to make her name famous in the world,-Naples still reigns supreme by the quiet power of her own loveli ness. It was the hour of sunset: scarcely a breeze |