. There was no time for
conversation in between. Now and then, Sophy glanced at Amaldi. "If I
were a Roman Catholic and he were a priest," she thought oddly, "I could
confess anything to him." Then she smiled, her eyes on the open mouth of
the singer. That had been such a queer thought! Amaldi looked so little
like a priest. Rather as if he might make an impetuous soldier. Yes--one
of those young, fierce soldiers of the _Risorgimento_. With her quick,
visualising fancy, she tried to place him in his proper setting--as a
child. What sort of home had he lived in as a child? What sort of
countryside held his dearest memories as "Sweet-Waters" held hers? Como?
Had he lived in a beautiful old villa on Como? Had he played with the
little peasants of Cadenabbia? She saw the lovely lake floating purplish
blue before her--the dull silver of snow-peaks. Amaldi as a brown-legged
boy wrestling with the little villagers--swimming naked with them in the
purplish water like a little brown fish.

Suddenly Olive leaned over and whispered:

"This is getting dreadfully dull and stuffy. Don't you think so? Jean
won't sing any more. Do come with me. I'm going on to Kitty Illingham's
ball."

Without waiting for Sophy to answer, she said to Varesca:

"_Do_ help me to persuade her--you and Amaldi."

Varesca obediently began to gush forth entreaties. Amaldi said nothing.
She had not yet heard the sound of his voice. But his eyes said: "Please
come."

"Very well," said Sophy to Olive.

When she entered the ballroom, she felt, rather than saw, people turning
to look after her. She had the oddest feeling of being glad that she was
tall--that there was so much of her to feel that keen flame of life that
had sprung up so suddenly within her.

A woman who admired her said to a man:

"Do look at Sophy Chesney! It does her good to be immured by her ogre.
She's simply ablaze, to-night!"

The man said:

"I know she's been called the most beautiful American in England. But I
never thought so till to-night."

Sophy herself wondered if this queer, super-vitalised sensation that she
had was happiness. She could not tell. She was only one throb of
exultation at being alive.

A voice spoke close beside her.

"Will you dance this with me?" Amaldi was asking.

And as she moved off with him, it seemed as if they had often danced
together before.

When they stopped they found themselves near the conservatory.

"Let us sit in there a while,"