to your party."

"I am delighted to hear it."

"I've got a lovely dress!"

"I am very sure of that."

"But I want to ask a favor--permission to bring a friend."

"I shall be happy to see any of your friends," said Mrs. Walker, turning
with a smile to Mrs. Miller.

"Oh, they are not my friends," answered Daisy's mamma, smiling shyly in
her own fashion. "I never spoke to them."

"It's an intimate friend of mine--Mr. Giovanelli," said Daisy without
a tremor in her clear little voice or a shadow on her brilliant little
face.

Mrs. Walker was silent a moment; she gave a rapid glance at
Winterbourne. "I shall be glad to see Mr. Giovanelli," she then said.

"He's an Italian," Daisy pursued with the prettiest serenity. "He's a
great friend of mine; he's the handsomest man in the world--except Mr.
Winterbourne! He knows plenty of Italians, but he wants to know some
Americans. He thinks ever so much of Americans. He's tremendously
clever. He's perfectly lovely!"

It was settled that this brilliant personage should be brought to Mrs.
Walker's party, and then Mrs. Miller prepared to take her leave. "I
guess we'll go back to the hotel," she said.

"You may go back to the hotel, Mother, but I'm going to take a walk,"
said Daisy.

"She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli," Randolph proclaimed.

"I am going to the Pincio," said Daisy, smiling.

"Alone, my dear--at this hour?" Mrs. Walker asked. The afternoon was
drawing to a close--it was the hour for the throng of carriages and of
contemplative pedestrians. "I don't think it's safe, my dear," said Mrs.
Walker.

"Neither do I," subjoined Mrs. Miller. "You'll get the fever, as sure as
you live. Remember what Dr. Davis told you!"

"Give her some medicine before she goes," said Randolph.

The company had risen to its feet; Daisy, still showing her pretty
teeth, bent over and kissed her hostess. "Mrs. Walker, you are too
perfect," she said. "I'm not going alone; I am going to meet a friend."

"Your friend won't keep you from getting the fever," Mrs. Miller
observed.

"Is it Mr. Giovanelli?" asked the hostess.

Winterbourne was watching the young girl; at this question his attention
quickened. She stood there, smiling and smoothing her bonnet ribbons;
she glanced at Winterbourne. Then, while she glanced and smiled, she
answered, without a shade of hesitation, "Mr. Giovanelli--the beautiful
Giovanelli."

"My dear young friend," said Mrs. Walker, taking her hand p