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
societ