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Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2 58 0 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 54 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 52 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 3 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 42 0 Browse Search
Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing) 42 0 Browse Search
James Russell Lowell, Among my books 32 0 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 28 0 Browse Search
James Parton, Horace Greeley, T. W. Higginson, J. S. C. Abbott, E. M. Hoppin, William Winter, Theodore Tilton, Fanny Fern, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. E. C. Stanton, Women of the age; being natives of the lives and deeds of the most prominent women of the present gentlemen 26 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli 26 0 Browse Search
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches 20 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Adam Badeau, Grant in peace: from Appomattox to Mount McGregor, a personal memoir. You can also browse the collection for Italian or search for Italian in all documents.

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ra; she had sung at La Scala and San Carlo, and pleased the fancy of the Prince, who married her. But she could not go to court, nor be recognized at St. Petersburg. This was why she lived in Italy. This accounted for the portraits of Lucrezia and Semiramide. There was no harm done; the Princess was married; but she had kept back her story when she invited Mrs. Grant. Her companion had an engagement at the time at the Neapolitan opera. Nevertheless the villa was beautiful, the lake was Italian, and the Princess was real, like her lace and her red rose. At Thusis there was another incident. One Sunday morning after the late Continental breakfast we were waiting for the vetturino, and sat in an arbor without the inn, looking up to the Via Mala. There was a little gate that opened on the arbor, and to this there came a short but stately woman of sixty years or more, dressed in black without a bonnet, but holding a parasol. She walked straight up to the group and looking over t