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then began to name some of the persons who were coming in. "There's a

general," said he, "who has become very popular since his last campaign

in Africa. There will be a great many military men here this evening, for

all Attilio's superiors have been invited, so as to give the young man an

_entourage_ of glory. Ah! and there's the German ambassador. I fancy that

nearly all the Corps Diplomatique will come on account of their

Majesties' presence. But, by way of contrast, just look at that stout

fellow yonder. He's a very influential deputy, a _parvenu_ of the new

middle class. Thirty years ago he was merely one of Prince Albertini's

farmers, one of those _mercanti di campagna_ who go about the environs of

Rome in stout boots and a soft felt hat. And now look at that prelate

coming in--"

"Oh! I know him," Pierre interrupted. "He's Monsignor Fornaro."

"Exactly, Monsignor Fornaro, a personage of some importance. You told me,

I remember, that he is the reporter of the Congregation in that affair of

your book. A most delightful man! Did you see how he bowed to the

Princess? And what a noble and graceful bearing he has in his little

mantle of violet silk!"

Then Narcisse went on enumerating the princes and princesses, the dukes

and duchesses, the politicians and functionaries, the diplomatists and

ministers, and the officers and well-to-do middle-class people, who of

themselves made up a most wonderful medley of guests, to say nothing of

the representatives of the various foreign colonies, English people,

Americans, Germans, Spaniards, and Russians, in a word, all ancient

Europe, and both Americas. And afterwards the young man reverted to the

Saccos, to the little Signora Sacco in particular, in order to tell

Pierre of the heroic efforts which she had made to open a _salon_ for the

purpose of assisting her husband's ambition. Gentle and modest as she

seemed, she was also very shrewd, endowed with genuine qualities,

Piedmontese patience and strength of resistance, orderly habits and

thriftiness. And thus it was she who re-established the equilibrium in

household affairs which her husband by his exuberance so often disturbed.

He was indeed greatly indebted to her, though nobody suspected it. At the

same time, however, she had so far failed in her attempts to establish a

white _salon_ which should take the lead in influencing opinion. Only the

people of her own set visited her, not a single prince ever came, and her

Monday dances were the same as in a score of other middle-class homes,

having no brilliancy and no importance. In fact, the real white _salon_,

which should guide men and things and sway all Rome was still in

dreamland.

"Just notice her keen smile as she examines everything here," resumed

Narcisse. "She's teaching herself and forming plans, I'm sure of it. Now

that she is about to be connected with a princely family she probably

hopes to receive some of the best society."

Large as was the room, the crowd in it had by this time grown so dense

that the two friends were pressed back to a wall, and felt almost

stifled. The _attache_ therefore decided to lead the priest elsewhere,

and as they walked along he gave him some particulars concerning the

palace, which was one of the most sumptuous in Rome, and renowned for the

magnificence of its reception-rooms. Dancing took place in the picture

gallery, a superb apartment more than sixty feet long, with eight windows

overlooking the Corso; while the buffet was installed in the Hall of the

Antiques, a marble hall, which among other precious things contained a

statue of Venus, rivalling the one at the Capitol. Then there was a suite

of marvellous _salons_, still resplendent with ancient luxury, hung with

the rarest stuffs, and retaining some unique specimens of old-time

furniture, on which covetous antiquaries kept their eyes fixed, whilst

waiting and hoping for the inevitable future ruin. And one of these

apartments, the little Saloon of the Mirrors, was particularly famous. Of

circular shape and Louis XV style, it was surrounded by mirrors in

_rococo_ frames, extremely rich, and most exquisitely carved.

"You will see all that by and by," continued Narcisse. "At present we had

better go in here if we want to breathe a little. It is here that the

arm-chairs from the adjacent gallery have been brought for the

accommodation of the ladies who desire to sit down and be seen and

admired."

The apartment they entered was a spacious one, draped with the most

superb Genoese velvet, that antique _jardiniere_ velvet with pale satin

ground, and flowers once of dazzling brightness, whose greens and blues

and reds had now become exquisitely soft, with the subdued, faded tones

of old floral love-tokens. On the pier tables and in the cabinets all

around were some of the most precious curios in the palace, ivory

caskets, gilt and painted wood carvings, pieces of antique

plate--briefly, a collection of marvels. And several ladies, fleeing the

crush, had already taken refuge on the numerous seats, clustering in

little groups, and laughing and chatting with the few gentlemen who had

discovered this retreat of grace and _galanterie_. In the bright glow of

the lamps nothing could be more delightful than the sight of all those

bare, sheeny shoulders, and those supple necks, above whose napes were

coiled tresses of fair or raven hair. Bare arms emerged like living

flowers of flesh from amidst the mingling lace and silk of soft-hued

bodices. The fans played slowly, as if to heighten the fires of the

precious stones, and at each beat wafted around an _odore di femina_

blended with a predominating perfume of violets.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Narcisse, "there's our good friend Monsignor Nani

bowing to the Austrian ambassadress."

As soon as Nani perceived the young priest and his companion he came

towards them, and the trio then withdrew into the embrasure of a window

in order that they might chat for a moment at their ease. The prelate was

smiling like one enchanted with the beauty of the _fete_, but at the same

time he retained all the serenity of innocence, as if he had not even

noticed the exhibition of bare shoulders by which he was surrounded. "Ah,

my dear son!" he said to Pierre, "I am very pleased to see you! Well, and

what do you think of our Rome when she makes up her mind to give

_fetes_?"

"Why, it is superb, Monseigneur."

Then, in an emotional manner, Nani spoke of Celia's lofty piety; and, in

order to give the Vatican the credit of this sumptuous _gala_, affected

to regard the Prince and Princess as staunch adherents of the Church, as

if he were altogether unaware that the King and Queen were presently

coming. And afterwards he abruptly exclaimed: "I have been thinking of

you all day, my dear son. Yes, I heard that you had gone to see his

Eminence Cardinal Sanguinetti. Well, and how did he receive you?"

"Oh! in a most paternal manner," Pierre replied. "At first he made me

understand the embarrassment in which he was placed by his position as

protector of Lourdes; but just as I was going off he showed himself

charming, and promised me his help with a delicacy which deeply touched

me."

"Did he indeed, my dear son? But it doesn't surprise me, his Eminence is

so good-hearted!"

"And I must add, Monseigneur, that I came back with a light and hopeful

heart. It now seems to me as if my suit were half gained."

"Naturally, I understand it," replied Nani, who was still smiling with

that keen, intelligent smile of his, sharpened by a touch of almost

imperceptible irony. And after a short pause he added in a very simple

way: "The misfortune is that on the day before yesterday your book was

condemned by the Congregation of the Index, which was convoked by its

Secretary expressly for that purpose. And the judgment will be laid

before his Holiness, for him to sign it, on the day after to-morrow."

Pierre looked at the prelate in bewilderment. Had the old mansion fallen

on his head he would not have felt more overcome. What! was it all over?

His journey to Rome, the experiment he had come to attempt there, had

resulted in that defeat, of which he was thus suddenly apprised amidst

that betrothal _fete_. And he had not even been able to defend himself,

he had sacrificed his time without finding any one to whom he might

speak, before whom he might plead his cause! Anger was rising within him,

and he could not prevent himself from muttering bitterly: "Ah! how I have

been duped! And that Cardinal who said to me only this morning: 'If God

be with you he will save you in spite of everything.' Yes, yes, I now

understand him; he was juggling with words, he only desired a disaster in

order that submission might lead me to Heaven! Submit, indeed, ah! I

cannot, I cannot yet! My heart is too full of indignation and grief."

Nani examined and studied him with curiosity. "But my dear son," he said,

"nothing is final so long as the Holy Father has not signed the judgment.

You have all to-morrow and even the morning of the day after before you.

A miracle is always possible." Then, lowering his voice and drawing

Pierre on one side whilst Narcisse in an aesthetical spirit examined the

ladies, he added: "Listen, I have a communication to make to you in great

secrecy. Come and join me in the little Saloon of the Mirrors by and by,

during the Cotillon. We shall be able to talk there at our ease."

Pierre nodded, and thereupon the prelate discreetly withdrew and

disappeared in the crowd. However, the young man's ears were buzzing; he

could no longer hope; what indeed could he accomplish in one day since he

had lost three months without even being able to secure an audience with

the Pope? And his bewilderment increased as he suddenly heard Narcisse

speaking to him of art. "It's astonishing how the feminine figure has

deteriorated in these dreadful democratic days. It's all fat and horribly

common. Not one of those women yonder shows the Florentine contour, with

small bosom and slender, elegant neck. Ah! that one yonder isn't so bad

perhaps, the fair one with her hair coiled up, whom Monsignor Fornaro has

just approached."

For a few minutes indeed Monsignor Fornaro had been fluttering from

beauty to beauty, with an amiable air of conquest. He looked superb that

evening with his lofty decorative figure, blooming cheeks, and victorious

affability. No unpleasant scandal was associated with his name; he was

simply regarded as a prelate of gallant ways who took pleasure in the

society of ladies. And he paused and chatted, and leant over their bare

shoulders with laughing eyes and humid lips as if experiencing a sort of

devout rapture. However, on perceiving Narcisse whom he occasionally met,

he at once came forward and the _attache_ had to bow to him. "You have

been in good health I hope, Monseigneur, since I had the honour of seeing

you at the embassy."

"Oh! yes, I am very well, very well indeed. What a delightful _fete_, is

it not?"

Pierre also had bowed. This was the man whose report had brought about

the condemnation of his book; and it was with resentment that he recalled

his caressing air and charming greeting, instinct with such lying

promise. However, the prelate, who was very shrewd, must have guessed

that the young priest was already acquainted with the decision of the

Congregation, and have thought it more dignified to abstain from open

recognition; for on his side he merely nodded and smiled at him. "What a

number of people!" he went on, "and how many charming persons there are!

It will soon be impossible for one to move in this room."

All the seats in fact were now occupied by ladies, and what with the

strong perfume of violets and the exhalations of warm necks and shoulders

the atmosphere was becoming most oppressive. The fans flapped more

briskly, and clear laughter rang out amidst a growing hubbub of

conversation in which the same words constantly recurred. Some news,

doubtless, had just arrived, some rumour was being whispered from group

to group, throwing them all into feverish excitement. As it happened,

Monsignor Fornaro, who was always well informed, desired to be the

proclaimer of this news, which nobody as yet had ventured to announce

aloud.

"Do you know what is exciting them all?" he inquired.

"Is it the Holy Father's illness?" asked Pierre in his anxiety. "Is he

worse this evening?"

The prelate looked at him in astonishment, and then somewhat impatiently

replied: "Oh, no, no. His Holiness is much better, thank Heaven. A person

belonging to the Vatican was telling me just now that he was able to get

up this afternoon and receive his intimates as usual."

"All the same, people have been alarmed," interrupted Narcisse. "I must

confess that we did not feel easy at the embassy, for a Conclave at the

present time would be a great worry for France. She would exercise no

influence at it. It is a great mistake on the part of our Republican

Government to treat the Holy See as of no importance! However, can one

ever tell whether the Pope is ill or not? I know for a certainty that he

was nearly carried off last winter when nobody breathed a word about any

illness, whereas on the last occasion when the newspapers killed him and

talked about a dreadful attack of bronchitis, I myself saw him quite

strong and in the best of spirits! His reported illnesses are mere

matters of policy, I fancy."*

* There is much truth in this; but the reader must not imagine

that the Pope is never ill. At his great age, indispositions

are only natural.--Trans.

With a hasty gesture, however, Monsignor Fornaro brushed this importunate

subject aside. "No, no," said he, "people are tranquillised and no longer

talk of it. What excites all those ladies is that the Congregation of the