ishing pad of
express checks he carried in the inside pocket of his waistcoat.

"Better live a fortnight like a gentleman," he said, as he tossed his
shoes into a buhl cabinet, "than vegetate like a tourist for a year."

He had made his entrance into the "great world" and he meant to hold his
place in it as one "to the manor born." Its people should not find
him lacking: he would wear their manner and speak their language--no
gaucherie should betray him, no homely phrase escape his lips.

This was the chance he had always hoped for, and when he fell asleep
in his gorgeous, canopied bed, his soul was uplifted with happy
expectations.

II. Music on the Pincio

The following afternoon found him still in that enviable condition as
he stood listening to the music on the Pincian Hill. He had it of rumor
that the Fashion of Rome usually took a turn there before it went to
tea, and he had it from the lady herself that Madame de Vaurigard would
be there. Presently she came, reclining in a victoria, the harness of
her horses flashing with gold in the sunshine. She wore a long ermine
stole; her hat was ermine; she carried a muff of the same fur, and
Mellin thought it a perfect finish to the picture that a dark gentleman
of an appearance most distinguished should be sitting beside her. An
Italian noble, surely!

He saw the American at once, nodded to him and waved her hand. The
victoria went on a little way beyond the turn of the drive, drew out of
the line of carriages, and stopped.

"Ah, Monsieur Mellin," she cried, as he came up, "I am glad! I was so
foolish yesterday I didn' give you the address of my little apartment
an' I forgot to ask you what is your hotel. I tol' you I would come here
for my drive, but still I might have lost you for ever. See what many
people! It is jus' that Fate again."

She laughed, and looked to the Italian for sympathy in her kindly
merriment. He smiled cordially upon her, then lifted his hat and smiled
as cordially upon Mellin.

"I am so happy to fin' myself in Rome that I forget"--Madame de
Vaurigard went on--"_ever'sing!_ But now I mus' make sure not to lose
you. What is your hotel?"

"Oh, the Magnifique," Mellin answered carelessly. "I suppose everybody
that one knows stops there. One does stop there, when one is in Rome,
doesn't one?"

"Everybody go' there for tea, and to eat, sometime, but to _stay_--ah,
that is for the American!" she laughed. "That is for you who are all