n, as it is now, on the last two visits I made
here."'

Gerald turned away in ill-humour, for he was vexed that any act of
servitude should be required of him.

There is a strange mystery in that atmosphere of deference which arises
from the united submission of many to one whom they would honour and
reverence. The most stubborn asserter of equality has not failed to own
this, as he has stood among the crowd before a throne. The sentiment
of homage is quickly contagious, and few there are who can steel their
hearts against the feelings of that homage which fills every breast
about him. Gerald experienced this as he found himself moving slowly
along in the procession toward the chamber where the Contessina held
her court. The splendid suite of rooms, filled with objects of art, the
massive candelabra of gilded bronze, the costly tables of malachite
and agate, all obtained their full share of admiration from the simple
villagers, whose whispered words almost savoured of worship, until,
awe-stricken, they found themselves in a magnificent chamber, hung with
pictures from floor to ceiling. In a deep window recess, from which a
vast view opened over mountain and forest, the Contessina was standing,
book in hand, gazing listlessly on the landscape, and never noticing in
the slightest that dense throng which now gathered in the lower part of
the room.

'Maurizio and the peasants have come to pay their duty, whispered a
thin, elderly lady, who acted as governante to the young countess.

'Well, be it so,' said she languidly. And now a very meanly-clad priest,
poor and wretched in appearance, came crouchingly forward to kiss her
hand. She gave it with averted head, and in a way that indicated little
of courtesy, while he bent tremblingly over it, as beseemed one whose
lips touched the fingers of a great cardinal's niece. Maurizio followed,
and then the other members of his household. When it came to Gerald's
turn to advance, 'You must, you must; it is your duty,' whispered the
steward, as, rebel-like, the youth wished to pass on without the act of
deference.

'Is this Tonino?' asked the Contessina, suddenly turning her head, for
her quick ears had caught the words of remonstrance. 'Is this Tonino?'

'No, Eccelenza; Tonino was drawn in the conscription, muttered the
steward, in confusion. 'He knew your Excellency would have got him off,
if you were here, but----'

'Which is this, then--your second son, or your third?'

'