alud be dy name.'"

He laughed a little now, as he mimicked the baby voice. They laughed
together, then they looked at each other, and then with serious eyes
they turned away.

"You'll think it strange, but I date my first conscious and definite
aspiration to the memory of that hour."

"Really?"

"Ten years afterward, when I was in America, the words of that prayer
came back to me in Roma's little lisp. 'Dy kingum tum. Dy will be done
on eard as it is in heben.'"

For some time after that Roma worked on without speaking, feeling
feverish and restless. But just as the silence was becoming painful, and
she could bear it no longer, Felice came to announce lunch.

"You'll stay? I want so much to work on while I'm in the mood," she
said.

"With pleasure," he replied.

She ate hardly at all, for she was troubled by many misgivings. Did he
know her? He did; he must; every word, every tone seemed to tell her
that. Then why did he not speak out plainly? Because, having revealed
himself to her, he was waiting for her to reveal herself to him. And why
had she not done so? Because she was enmeshed in the nets of the society
she lived in; because she was ashamed of the errand that had brought
them together; and most of all because she had not dared to lay bare
that secret of his life which, like an escaped convict, dragged behind
it the broken chain of the prison-house.

_David Leone is dead!_ To uncover, even to their own eyes only, the fact
that lay hidden behind those words was like personating the priest and
listening at the grating of the confessional!

No matter! She must do it! She must reveal herself as her heart and
instinct might direct. She must claim the parentage of the noblest soul
that ever died for liberty, and David Rossi must trust his secret to the
bond of blood which would make it impossible for her to betray the
foster-son of her own father.

Having come to this conclusion, the light seemed to break in her heavy
sky, but the clouds were charged with electricity. As they returned to
the studio she was excited and a little hysterical, for she thought the
time was near. At that moment a regiment of soldiers passed along under
the ilex trees to the Pincio, with their band of music playing as they
marched.

"Ah, the dear old days!" said David Rossi. "Everything reminds me of
them! I remember that when she was six...."

"Roma?"

"Yes--a regiment of troops returned from a glorious campaign, and the