ays moving," he said. "It isn't
the faith of the people I question. It is the good faith of the Roman
Catholic Church towards the people."

"I see," Sophy said thoughtfully. Then she turned to him again.

"You are so much more serious about it than the other Italians I've
known, who were anti-clerical. They seemed just to shrug their shoulders
over it--took it half laughingly."

"A man shouldn't take it with a shrug or half laughingly that the women
of his country are under the thumb of a hierarchy," said Amaldi with
some vehemence. "There is a great hour coming for women, all over the
world--yet a true Italian can't wish this for his country-women, as long
as their fuller power would be just another weapon in the hands of
priests."

"You look far ahead, Marchese. Your mother told me to-day of another
movement that you foresaw. Something about 'Iconoclasts.'"

"Yes," he said, "lands that have been saturated with beauty as Italy has
must precipitate some reactionary movement sooner or later. First we
have the mere inertia of saturation--the numbness to beauty--the
incapacity to produce or even appreciate it. Next will come the positive
reaction--the rise of the Image-Breakers. What queer name they will call
themselves by I can't divine--but I can forefeel their rising."

Sophy walked on in silence for a moment, then she said:

"It must be wonderful to have such a country as Italy for your
birthright, and to love it as much as you do."

He glanced at her with a changed look.

"Yes--I love it," he said. But he was thinking how much more than any
country he loved her.

When they left, Signorina Rosalia accompanied them down to the little
landing. The engine of the _Fretta_ took up its busy hum again. Swiftly
they backed away from Isola Pescatori, and spun round towards Pallanza.

"_Buona sera, Signora! Buona sera, Signor Marchese!_" called the
Padrone's daughter in her high, fluting voice. She stood on the little
quay in the moonlight till they were some distance out upon the lake.
"_Gli amanti--gli amanti_," she was thinking sentimentally. She stood
there thrilled with the romance that she felt rushing away from her into
the ecstatic moonlight....

And out there in the soft magnificence of the summer night Sophy and
Amaldi sat silent, with only the little steering wheel between them.
They felt the sense of exhilaration that comes from being close to the
prow of a boat speeding low on the water: they were so i