And you had never heard anything of his daughter in the interval?"

"Once I had! It was on the same day, though. A man came here from London
on an infamous errand..."

"What was his name?"

"Charles Minghelli."

"What did he say?"

"He said Roma Roselli was not dead at all, but worse than dead--that she
had fallen into the hands of an evil man, and turned out badly."

"Did you ... did you believe that story?"

"Not one word of it! I called the man a liar, and flung him out of the
house."

"Then you ... you think ... if she is still living...."

"My Roma is a good woman."

Her face burned up to the roots of her hair. She choked with joy, she
choked with pain. His belief in her purity stifled her. She could not
speak now--she could not reveal herself. There was a moment of silence,
and then in a tremulous voice she said:

"Will you not call _me_ Roma, and try to think I am your little friend?"

When she came to herself after that she was back in her own apartment,
in her aunt's bedroom, and kissing the old lady's angular face. And the
Countess was breaking up the stupefaction of her enchantment with sighs
and tears and words of counsel.

"I only want you to preserve yourself for your proper destiny, Roma. You
are the _fiancee_ of the Baron, as one might say, and the poor maniac
can't last long."

Before dressing for dinner Roma replied to the Minister:--

"DEAR BARON BONELLI,--Didn't I tell you that Minghelli would find
out nothing? I am now more than ever sure that the whole idea is
an error. Take my advice and drop it. Drop it! Drop it! I shall,
at all events!--Yours,

"ROMA VOLONNA.

"Success to the dinner! Am sending Felice. He will give you this
letter.--R. V."

IX

It was the sweetest morning of the Roman winter. The sun shone with a
gentle radiance, and the motionless air was fragrant with the odour of
herbs and flowers. Outside the gate which leads to the old Appian Way
grooms were waiting with horses, blanketed and hooded, and huntsmen in
red coats, white breeches, pink waistcoats, and black boots, were
walking their mounts to the place appointed for the meet. In a line of
carriages were many ladies, some in riding-habits, and on foot there was
a string of beggars, most of them deformed, with here and there, at
little villages, a group of rosy children watching the procession as it
passed.

The American and English Ambassador