d to scorn the
idea that Del Ferice could think of himself seriously as a suitor, but of
all her admirers she found him the most constant and the most convenient.

"What are the news this morning?" she asked, as he opened her
carriage-door for her before the studio.

"None, save that I am your faithful slave as ever," he answered.

"I have just seen the Astrardente," said Donna Tullia, still sitting in
her seat. "I will let you guess where it was that we met."

"You met in the church of the Capuchins," replied Del Ferice promptly,
with a smile of satisfaction.

"You are a sorcerer: how did you know? Did you guess it?"

"If you will look down this street from where I stand, you will perceive
that I could distinctly see any carriage which turned out of the Piazza
Barberini towards the Capuchins," replied Ugo. "She was there nearly an
hour, and you only stayed five minutes."

"How dreadful it is to be watched like this!" exclaimed Donna Tullia,
with a little laugh, half expressive of satisfaction and half of
amusement at Del Fence's devotion.

"How can I help watching you, as the earth watches the sun in its daily
course?" said Ugo, with a sentimental intonation of his soft persuasive
voice. Donna Tullia looked at his smooth face, and laughed again, half
kindly.

"The Astrardente had been confessing her sins," she remarked.

"Again? She is always confessing."

"What do you suppose she finds to say?" asked Donna Tullia.

"That her husband is hideous, and that you are beautiful," answered Del
Ferice, readily enough.

"Why?"

"Because she hates her husband and hates you."

"Why, again?"

"Because you took Giovanni Saracinesca to your picnic yesterday; because
you are always taking him away from her. For the matter of that, I hate
him as much as the Astrardente hates you," added Del Ferice, with an
agreeable smile. Donna Tullia did not despise flattery, but Ugo made her
thoughtful.

"Do you think she really cares--?" she asked.

"As surely as that he does not," replied Del Ferice.

"It would be strange," said Donna Tullia, meditatively. "I would like to
know if it is true."

"You have only to watch them."

"Surely Giovanni cares more than she does," objected Madame Mayer.
"Everybody says he loves her; nobody says she loves him."

"All the more reason. Popular report is always mistaken--except
in regard to you."

"To me?"

"Since it ascribes to you so much that is good, it cannot be wrong,"
repl