ss.

"Crowded already!" she said. "And every face looking up at my box!
That's what it is to have for your companion the most beautiful and the
most envied girl in Rome. What a sensation! Nothing to what it will be,
though, when your illustrious friend arrives."

At that moment David Rossi appeared at the back, and the Princess
welcomed him effusively.

"So glad! So honoured! Gi-gi, let me introduce you--Honourable Rossi,
Don Camillo Luigi Murelli."

Roma looked at him--he had an air of distinction in a dress coat such as
comes to one man in a thousand. He looked at Roma--she wore a white gown
with violets on one shoulder and two rows of pearls about her beautiful
white throat. The Princess looked at both of them, and her little eyes
twinkled.

"Never been here before, Mr. Rossi? Then you must allow me to explain
everything. Take this chair between Roma and myself. No, you must not
sit back. _You_ can't mind observation--so used to it, you know."

Without further ado David Rossi took his place in front of the box, and
then a faint commotion passed over the house. There were looks of
surprise and whispered comments, and even some trills of laughter.

He bore it without flinching, as if he had come for it and expected it,
and was taking it as a penance.

Roma dropped her head and felt ashamed, but the little Princess went on
talking. "These boxes on the first tier are occupied by Roman society
generally, those on the second tier mainly by the diplomatic corps, and
the stalls are filled by all sorts and conditions of people--political
people, literary people, even trades-people if they're rich enough or
can pretend to be."

"And the upper circles?" asked Rossi.

"Oh," in a tired voice, "professional people, I think--Collegio Romano
and University of Rome, you know."

"And the gallery?"

"Students, I suppose." Then eagerly, after bowing to somebody below,
"Gi-gi, there's Lu-lu. Don't forget to ask him to supper.... All the
beautiful young men of Rome are here to-night, Mr. Rossi, and presently
they'll pay a round of calls on the ladies in the boxes."

The voice of the Princess was suddenly drowned by the sharp tap of the
conductor, followed by the opening blast of the overture. Then the
lights went down and the curtain rose, but still the audience kept up a
constant movement in the lower regions of the house, and there was an
almost unbroken chatter.

The curtain fell on the first act without anybody knowi