mpatiently to Giuseppe, the old major-domo, who had dropped a spoon in an archducal court; and the unfledged little waiters rushed about breathlessly. Cornélie

overed with a Jaeger under-vest, on which, in their turn, lay strings of large blue beads. Their eyes browsed over the long table, as though they were pitying everybody who had come to Rome to learn about art, because they two alone knew what art was. While eating, which they did unpleasantly, almost with their fingers, they read ?sthetic books, wrinkling their brows and now and then looking up angrily, because the people about them were talking. With their self-conceit, their impossible manners, their worse than tasteless dress and their great air of superiority,

s, teeth like a dentist's advertisement, her full breast moulded in mauve cloth plentifully decorated with braid, on her heavily-waved hair a large mauve hat with a cascade of black ostrich-feathers, fastened by an over-large paste buckle. At every movement the silk of her petticoat rustled, the feathers nodded, the paste buckle gleamed. And, notwithstanding all this showiness, she was child-like: she was perhaps just twenty, with an ingenuous expression in her eyes. She at once spoke to Cornélie, to Rudyard; said that she was tired, that she had come from Naples, that she had been dancing last night at Prince Cibo's, that her name was Miss Urania Hope, that her father lived in Chicago, that she had two

asked Miss Hop

ed, the plumes nodded,

tself to pieces against the hot-house windows of our cabined existence. She felt no attraction towards this strange,

Cornélie and asked if she would come too, to see Rome by moonlight, quite close, from the Villa Medici. She

with me in the

alk with the Baroni

German

es

a nobl

esume

people in the house?" a

lie l

I only arrive

d that there were many title

aughed. "But I had

m with the coats of arms of all sorts of families and another album with patterns of si

nélie laughed. "But I m

iting in the hall and asked what she was laughing at. She caused great merrimen

alked in front with her, along the Via Sisti

in this German woman, who belonged to the titled military class, a coldly

of our stay abroad. Mr. Rudyard is very pleasant. He helps us in all sorts of ways: tickets for a papal mass, introductions here, invitations there. He seem

The Baronin took

s first talk at a table-d'h?te, over a skinny chicken? Don't think us shabby or cynical. Oh dear, perhaps we are! Our cosmopolitan, irresponsible, unsettled life makes us ungen

y dark street she saw Rudyard and the young Baron

ur daughter

ked face and his dirty finger-nails. We merely accept his introductions. Do as we do. Or ... don't. Perhaps i

man reared in narrow principles of duty and morality. It was certainly not good form; but was it not weariness brought about by the

white radiance and Rome lay in the flawless blue glamour of the night. Over-flowing the brimming basin of the fountain, b

élie, softly. Rudyard and the Baronesse

estly. "And Rome is more. Rome is

tood before her in his black coat, showing but little linen, the same stout, civil gentleman. His voice was very penetrating, with a rich note

ot wish her to meditate too deepl

n to many ... becau

s an ?sthetic commonplace; bu