e sun sinks in the
refreshed and far blue atmosphere. Almost immediately, however, he found
himself in the Via Nazionale, along which he had driven on arriving the
previous day. And he recognised the huge livid Banca d'Italia, the green
gardens climbing to the Quirinal, and the heaven-soaring pines of the
Villa Aldobrandini. Then, at the turn of the street, as he stopped short
in order that he might again contemplate the column of Trajan which now
rose up darkly from its low piazza, already full of twilight, he was
surprised to see a victoria suddenly pull up, and a young man courteously
beckon to him.

"Monsieur l'Abbe Froment! Monsieur l'Abbe Froment!"

It was young Prince Dario Boccanera, on his way to his daily drive along
the Corso. He now virtually subsisted on the liberality of his uncle the
Cardinal, and was almost always short of money. But, like all the Romans,
he would, if necessary, have rather lived on bread and water than have
forgone his carriage, horse, and coachman. An equipage, indeed, is the
one indispensable luxury of Rome.

"If you will come with me, Monsieur l'Abbe Froment," said the young
Prince, "I will show you the most interesting part of our city."

He doubtless desired to please Benedetta, by behaving amiably towards her
protege. Idle as he was, too, it seemed to him a pleasant occupation to
initiate that young priest, who was said to be so intelligent, into what
he deemed the inimitable side, the true florescence of Roman life.

Pierre was compelled to accept, although he would have preferred a
solitary stroll. Yet he was interested in this young man, the last born
of an exhausted race, who, while seemingly incapable of either thought or
action, was none the less very seductive with his high-born pride and
indolence. Far more a Roman than a patriot, Dario had never had the
faintest inclination to rally to the new order of things, being well
content to live apart and do nothing; and passionate though he was, he
indulged in no follies, being very practical and sensible at heart, as
are all his fellow-citizens, despite their apparent impetuosity. As soon
as his carriage, after crossing the Piazza di Venezia, entered the Corso,
he gave rein to his childish vanity, his desire to shine, his passion for
gay, happy life in the open under the lovely sky. All this, indeed, was
clearly expressed in the simple gesture which he made whilst exclaiming:
"The Corso!"

As on the previous day, Pierre wa