inning, very wicked child, and shortly after took his hat and
went to the Pincio, after all.

Meantime, the brother and sister had walked gaily along, passed the
Spanish Steps, and were on the Pincian hill. Here, Mae was indeed happy.
The fine equipages and dark, rich beauty of the Italians delighted her,
and she and Eric found a shaded bench, and watched the carriages drive
round and round, and criticised, and admired, and laughed like two idle
children. They bought some flowers, and Mae sat pulling them to pieces,
when they caught sight, down the pathway, of two approaching Piedmontese
officers.

"O," cried Mae, and dropped her flowers, and clasped her hands, and
sprang to her feet, "O, Eric, are they gods or men?"

The Piedmontese officer is godlike. He must be of a certain imposing
height to obtain his position, and his luxurious yellow moustaches and
blue black eyes, enriched and intensified by southern blood, give him a
strange fascination. The cold, manly beauty and strength of a northern
blonde meet with the heat and lithe grace of the more supple southerner
to produce this paragon. There is a combination of half-indolent
elegance and sensuous langour, with a fire, a verve, a nobility, that
puts him at the very head of masculine beauty. Add to the charms of
his physique, the jauntiest, most bewitching of uniforms, the clinking
spurs, the shining buttons, the jacket following every line of his
figure, and no wonder maidens' hearts seek him out always and young
pulses beat quicker at his approach.

Mae's admiration was simply rapturous. Utterly regardless of the pretty
picture she herself made, of her vivid coloring and sparkling beauty,
she stood among her dropped flowers until the two pairs of eyes were
fixed upon her. Then she became suddenly aware of her attitude and with
quick feminine cunning endeavored to transfer her admiration to some
beautiful horses cantering by, exclaiming in Italian, that the officers
might surely understand she was thinking only of the fine animals: "O,
what wonderful horses!"

The foreign pronunciation, Eric's amusement, Mae's confusion, were not
lost upon the men. Their curiosity was piqued, their eyes and pride
gratified. They sauntered leisurely past, only to turn a corner and
quicken their steps again toward the bench where Eric and Mae were
seated. They found the brother and sister just arising, and followed
them slowly.

An Italian is quick to detect secrets. The two ha