n warned that he was also a spy of
the Roman police. However that might be, he was very amusing; and as we
cared nothing for the police, we not only endured but we encouraged his
visits,--which was not hard to do in view of his passion for _poncio
spongato_ and _spuma di latte_.

On his entrance one evening, a member of our party asked him who was the
woman with whom he had met him that morning.

"My wife, signore," answered the Italian.

"Yours, Benedetto!--you the husband of such a beauty!"

"Si, signore."

"Nonsense! you are ugly and drunken, and people say you are police spy;
but she, on the contrary, is as handsome as Diana the huntress."

"I charmed her with my talent; she adores me."

"Well, if she is your wife, make her pose to our friend here, Dorlange,
who wants a model for his Pandora. He can't get a finer one."

"That can be managed," replied the Italian.

The next day I was in my studio in company with several young painters
and sculptors when Benedetto came in accompanied by a woman of rare
beauty, whom I need not describe, for you have seen her, madame, at my
house. A joyous hurrah greeted the Italian, who said to me,--

"_Ecco la Pandora_! Hey! what do you think of her?"

"Marvellously beautiful; but would she pose?"

"Pooh!" exclaimed Benedetto, with an air which seemed to say: "I'd like
to see her refuse."

"But," I remarked, "she would cost too much, a model of her beauty."

"No; you need only make my bust--just a plaster cast--and give it to
her."

"Very good," I said. Then I told my friends to go and leave us alone
together.

Nobody minded me. Judging the wife by the husband, the eager young
fellows pressed round her; while she, wounded and angered by the
audacity of their eyes, looked like a caged panther irritated by
peasants at a fair.

Going up to her and pulling her aside, Benedetto told her in Italian
that I wanted to copy her from head to foot, and she must then and there
take off her clothes. The woman gave him one withering look, and
made for the door. Benedetto rushed forward to prevent her; while my
comrades, for the honor of the studio, endeavored to bar his way.

Then began an argument between the wife and the husband; but, as I saw
that Benedetto sustained his part of it with great brutality, I was
angry, and, having a pretty vigorous arm, I pushed him aside, and took
the wife, who was trembling all over, to the door. She said, in Italian,
a few words of thanks,