sweet and sour; and serve him,
garnished with rosettes of beet-root, for my Signorino's Sunday dinner."

"Oh-h-h!" shuddered Beatrice and Emilia, in a breath; and they resumed
their walk.

XII

Francois was dining--with an appearance of great fervour.

Peter sat on his rustic bench, by the riverside, and watched him,
smoking a cigarette the while.

The Duchessa di Santangiolo stood screened by a tree in the park of
Ventirose, and watched them both.

Francois wore a wide blue ribbon round his pink and chubby neck; and his
dinner consisted of a big bowlful of bread and milk.

Presently the Duchessa stepped forth from her ambush, into the sun, and
laughed.

"What a sweetly pretty scene," she said. "Pastoral--idyllic--it reminds
one of Theocritus--it reminds one of Watteau."

Peter threw his cigarette into the river, and made an obeisance.

"I am very glad you feel the charm of it," he responded. "May I be
permitted to present Master Francois Vllon?"

"We have met before," said the Duchessa, graciously smiling upon
Francois, and inclining her head.

"Oh, I did n't know," said Peter, apologetic.

"Yes," said the Duchessa, "and in rather tragical circumstances. But
at that time he was anonymous. Why--if you won't think my curiosity
impertinent--why Francois Villon?"

"Why not?" said Peter. "He made such a tremendous outcry when he was
condemned to death, for one thing. You should have heard him. He has
a voice! Then, for another, he takes such a passionate interest in his
meat and drink. And then, if you come to that, I really had n't the
heart to call him Pauvre Lelian."

The Duchessa raised amused eyebrows.

"You felt that Pauvre Lelian was the only alternative?"

"I had in mind a remark of Pauvre Lilian's friend and confrere, the
cryptic Stephane," Peter answered. "You will remember it. 'L'ame d'un
poete dans le corps d'un--' I--I forget the last word," he faltered.

"Shall we say 'little pig'?" suggested the Duchessa.

"Oh, please don't," cried Peter, hastily, with a gesture of
supplication. "Don't say 'pig' in his presence. You'll wound his
feelings."

The Duchessa laughed.

"I knew he was condemned to death," she owned. "Indeed, it was in his
condemned cell that I made his acquaintance. Your Marietta Cignolesi
introduced us. Her air was so inexorable, I 'm a good deal surprised to
see him alive to-day. There was some question of a stuffing of rosemary
and onions."

"Ah, I see," sa