Of course all this is inevitable from the migratory nature of such a society as that which was gathered together on the banks of the Arno.
Some fixtures--comparatively fixtures--of course there were, who gave to our moving quicksand-like society some degree of cohesion.
Chief among these was of course the British minister--at the time of our arrival in Florence, and many years afterwards--Lord Holland.

A happier instance of the right man in the right place could hardly be met with.

At his great _omnium-gatherum_ dinners and receptions--his hospitality was of the most catholic and generous sort--both he and Lady Holland (how pretty she then was there is her very clever portrait by Watts to testify) never failed to win golden opinions from all sorts and conditions of men and women.

And in the smaller circle, which assembled in their rooms yet more frequently, they showed to yet greater advantage, for Lord Holland was one of the most amusing talkers I ever knew.
Of course many of those who ought to have been grateful for their admission to the minister's large receptions were discontented at not being invited to the smaller ones.

And it was by some of these malcontents with more wit than reason, that Lady Holland was accused of receiving in two very distinct fashions--_en menage_ and _en menagerie_.