all and a Christmas-tree was a custom with many hotel-keepers; and the pensions that gave no dance or Christmas-tree were known and numbered and were greatly blamed by the foreigners for this b

three friends, and because of all that tiring fuss with carriages, when a good many of the visitors skipped into their vettura without tipping him. Round about Christmas, therefore, relations between the marchesa and her two principal dignitaries became far from harmonious; and a hail of orders and abuse would patter down on the backs of the old cameriere, crawling wearily up and down stairs with their hot-water cans in their trembling hands, and of the young greenhorns of waiters, colliding with one another in their undisciplined zeal and smashing the plates. And it was only now, when the whole staff was put to work, that people saw how old the cameriere were and how young the waiters and qualified as disgraceful and shocking the thrifty method of the marchesa in employing none but wrecks and infants in her service. The one muscular facchino, who was essential for hauling the luggage, cut an unexpected figure of virile maturity and robustness. But above everything the visitors detested the marchesa because of the great number of her servants, reflecting that now, at Christmas time, they would have to tip every one of them. No, they never imagined that

and told the story of the Nativity, some shyly reciting a little poem, prompted by an anxious mother; others, girls especially, declaiming and rolling their eyes with the dramatic fervour of little Italian actresses and ending up with a religious moral. The people and countless tourists stood and listened to the preaching; a pleasant spirit prevailed in the church, where the sh

edroom had been cleverly metamorphosed into a boudoir, the beds draped to look like divans, the wash-hand-stands concealed; and the tree was radiant with candles and tinsel. And the Baronin, a little sentimentally inclined, for the season reminded her of Berlin and her lost domesticity, opened her doors wide to everybody and was even offering the two ?sthetic ladies sweets, when the marchesa, also smiling, appeared at the door, with her bosom moulded in sky-blue satin and with even larger crystals than usual in her ears. The room was full: there were the Van der Staals, Cornélie, R

an Stefano, Principe

n Stefano, Prince of Forte-Braccio, was a nephew of the marchesa's and one of the advertisements for her pension. And, while the prince talked to the Baronin and her daughter, Urania Hope stared at him as a miraculous being from another world. She clung tight to Cornélie's arm, as though she were in danger of fainting at the sight of so much Italian

d throughout the day. The prince arrived after the presents had been taken down from the tree and distributed and made a sort of state entry by the side of his aunt, the ma

the dance began inside. They were talking of the statues in the Vatican, which they had been to see two days before, when they heard, as though close to their ears, a voice which they recognized as the marchesa's commanding organ, vainly striving to sink into a whisper. They looked round in surprise and perceived the hidden door, which was partly open, and through the open space they faintly distinguished the slim hand and black sleeve of the prince and a piec

es?" asked the

here, by herself in the corner. A simple little soul.... The Baronin and

attractive Dutch gir

der; and Cornélie and Duc

Dutchwoman?" the

e marchesa ans

young b

" la Bello

the stocking-merchant?"

rstand the sentences which she rattled out through the boom-b

rl travelling by herself, she was recommended to me and finds it pleasanter here. She has the big sitting-room to herself and pays fifty lire a d

gs," muttered the

winter we had rich English titled people with a daughter, but you thought her t

wo little Dutch

e always thinking what you

papa promise y

c boomed

Rudyard talks to her.... Miss

o many stocking

dare say.... If you

N

.... I'll tell Rud

venty thousa

hey ur

re never

ou ag

ell myself for less than ten mi

ain the names of Rudyard

a?" he

se de Castellane and the Duchess of Marlborough: how well they bear their husbands' honours! Th

ed of these wasted winters. B

iv

, t

had stood up to go. Cornélie

and them," he said. "I

e was s

think, Mr. Va

ey're hu

t belie

d

knowledge of

, none

Rome can be dangerous and that an hotel-k

about

sisters, because they have no mone

raxiteles' Eros? I think it the most divine statue that I ever saw. Oh, the Eros, the Eros! That is lo

ever bee

y is everything. The Eros expresses love completely. The love of the Eros is so beautiful! I could never love so beautifully as that.... No, it does not i

r brows; her e

rs," she said. "We are