as a shy woman, whose intellect, such as it was, moved slowly,
while the Contessa was very clever, and as prompt as lightning. She
perceived at a glance that the less time the great lady had to think the
better, and hastened forward for a step or two, hurrying her stately
pace, "Ah, Duchess!" she said, "how glad I am to meet so old an
acquaintance. And I want, above all things, to have your patronage for
my little one. Bice--the Duchess, an old friend of my prosperous days,
permits me to present you to her." She drew her young companion forward
as she spoke, while the Duchess faltered and stammered a "How d'ye do?"
and looked in vain for succour to her daughters, who were looking on.
Then Bice showed her blood. It had not been set down in the Contessa's
programme what she was to do, so that the action took her patroness by
surprise, as well as the great lady whom it was so important to
captivate. While the Duchess stood stiff and awkward, making a
conventional curtsey against her will, and with a conventional smile on
her mouth, Bice, with the air of a young princess, innocently, yet
consciously superior to all her surroundings, suddenly stepped forward,
and taking the Duchess's hand, bent her stately young head to kiss it.
There was in the sudden movement that air of accident, of impulse, which
we all love. It overcame all the tremors of the great lady. She said,
"My dear!" in the excitement of the moment, and bent forward to kiss the
cheek of this beautiful young creature, who was so deferential, so
reverent in her young pride. And the Duchess's daughters did not
disapprove! Still more wonderful than the effect on the Duchess was the
effect upon these ladies, of whose criticisms their mother stood in
dread. They drew close about the lovely stranger, and it immediately
became apparent to the less important guests that the Italian ladies,
the heroines of the evening, had amalgamated with the ducal party--as it
was natural they should.

Never had there been a more complete triumph. The Contessa stepped in
and made hay while the sun shone. She waved off with a scarcely
perceptible movement of her hand several of her intimates who would have
gathered round her, and vouchsafed only a careless word to Montjoie, who
had hastened to present himself. The work to which she devoted herself
was the amusement of the Duchess, who was not, to tell the truth, very
easily amused. But Madame di Forno-Populo had infinite resources, and
s