And what I chiefly remember of His Eminence was
his evident annoyance at the ultra-demonstrative zeal of the female
portion of the mixed Catholic and Protestant assembly, who _would_
kneel and kiss his hand. A schoolmaster meeting boys in society, who,
instantly on his appearance should begin unbuttoning their brace
buttons behind, would hardly appreciate the recognition more
gratefully.
Within a very few weeks of our establishment in Casa Berti my
mother's home became, as usual, a centre of attraction and pleasant
intercourse, and her weekly Friday receptions were always crowded. If
I were to tell everything of what I remember in connection with those
days, I should produce such a book as _non di, non homines, non
concessere columnae_--a book such as neither publishers, nor readers,
nor the _columns_ of the critical journals would tolerate, and should
fill my pages with names, which, however interesting they may still be
for me, would hardly have any interest for the public, however gentle
or pensive.
One specialty, and that not a pleasant one, of a life so protracted as
mine has been in the midst of such a society as that of Florence in
those days, is the enormous quantity of the names which turn the
tablets of memory into palimpsests, not twice, but fifty times written
over!--unpleasant, not from the thronging _in_ of the motley company,
but from the inevitable passing _out_ of them from the field of
vision.
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