ed, as usual.

When Gloria had seen all she wished to see, she turned with a quick
movement to come down again, and on turning, she found herself much
nearer to the edge than she had expected. She was bending forwards a
little, and Griggs saw at once that she must lose her balance, unless
Reanda caught her from behind. But she made no sound, and turned very
white as she swayed a little, trying to throw herself back.

With a swift movement that was gentle but irresistible, Griggs pushed
Francesca back, keeping his eyes on the girl above. It all happened in
an instant.

"Jump!" he cried, in a voice of command.

She had felt that she must spring or fall, and her body was already
overbalanced as she threw herself off, instinctively gathering her skirt
with her hands. Dalrymple turned as pale as she. If she struck the bare
brick floor, she could scarcely escape serious injury. But she did not
reach it, for Paul Griggs caught her in his arms, swayed with her
weight, then stood as steady as a rock, and set her gently upon her
feet, beside her father.

"Maria Santissima!" cried Francesca, terrified, though instantly
relieved, and dimly understanding the stupendous feat of bodily strength
which had just been done before her eyes.

Above, Reanda leaned upon the single rail of the scaffolding with
wide-staring eyes. Gloria was faint with the shock of fear, and grasped
her father's arm.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he said roughly, in English, but
in a low voice. "You probably owe your life to Mr. Griggs," he added,
immediately regaining his self-possession.

Griggs alone seemed wholly unmoved by what had happened. Gloria had held
one of her gloves loosely in her hand, and it had fallen to the ground
as she sprang. He picked it up and handed it to her with a curious
gentleness.

"It must be yours, Miss Dalrymple," he said.

CHAPTER XX.

IT was late before Reanda and Donna Francesca were alone together on
that afternoon. When the first surprise and shock of Gloria's accident
had passed, Francesca would not allow Dalrymple to take her away at
once, as he seemed anxious to do. The girl was not in the least hurt,
but she was still dazed and frightened. Francesca took them all back to
the drawing-room and insisted upon giving them tea, because they were
foreigners, and Gloria, she said, must naturally need something to
restore her nerves. Roman tea, thirty years ago, was a strange and
uncertain beverage