ase Gouache, the painter. Giovanni knew him
slightly, for Gouache was regarded as a rising celebrity, and, thanks to
Donna Tullia, was invited to most of the great receptions and balls of
that season, though he was not yet anywhere on a footing of intimacy.
Gouache was proud, and would perhaps have stood aloof altogether rather
than be treated as one of the herd who are asked "with everybody," as
the phrase goes; but he was of an observing turn of mind, and it amused
him immensely to stand unnoticed, following the movements of society's
planets, comets, and satellites, and studying the many types of the
cosmopolitan Roman world.

"Good evening, Monsieur Gouache," said Giovanni.

"Good evening, prince," replied the artist, with a somewhat formal
bow--after which both men relapsed into silence, and continued to watch
the crowd.

"And what do you think of our Roman world?" asked Giovanni, presently.

"I cannot compare it to any other world," answered Gouache, simply. "I
never went into society till I came to Rome. I think it is at once
brilliant and sedate--it has a magnificent air of historical antiquity,
and it is a little paradoxical."

"Where is the paradox?" inquired Giovanni.

"'Es-tu libre? Les lois sont-elles respectees?
Crains-tu de voir ton champ pille par le voisin?
Le maitre a-t-il son toit, et l'ouvrier son pain?'"

A smile flickered over the young artist's face as he quoted Musset's
lines in answer to Giovanni's question. Giovanni himself laughed, and
looked at Anastase with somewhat increased interest.

"Do you mean that we are revelling under the sword of Damocles--dancing
on the eve of our execution?"

"Not precisely. A delicate flavour of uncertainty about to-morrow gives
zest to the appetite of to-day. It is impossible that such a large
society should be wholly unconscious of its own imminent danger--and yet
these men and women go about to-night as if they were Romans of old,
rulers of the world, only less sure of themselves than of the stability
of their empire."

"Why not?" asked Giovanni, glancing curiously at the pale young man
beside him. "In answer to your quotation, I can say that I am as free as
I care to be; that the laws are sufficiently respected; that no one has
hitherto thought it worth while to plunder my acres; that I have a modest
roof of my own; and that, as far as I am aware, there are no workmen
starving in the streets at present. You are answered, it seems to me,
Monsieur