leaving her empty palace and her deserted villa and grounds to offer
their silent protest. But once settled in Rome the Princess Leaney laid
aside the black veil, which she had always worn since her husband's
death, threw open her _salons_, where all the leaders of the Papal
aristocracy were to be seen, and annually contributed large sums to the
Peter's pence and other ecclesiastical funds. These actions--the first
as well as the last--accentuated the feeling against her in Ancona, and
thanks to the efforts of the agents of the "Liberal" party, the
sentiment found its echo in Rome. Of this she was herself quite aware;
and indeed, when she drove out on Monte Pincio, in all her beauty and
elegance, with her little daughter by her side, she could not fail to
notice the hostile glances levelled at her by persons she recognised as
inhabitants of her native town, as well as by others who were strangers
to her. But this only roused in her a spirit of defiance; she continued
to show herself regularly on Monte Pincio, and she again returned to
Ancona when the summer exodus from Rome set in. Once more she opened
her palace as well as her villa, and passed most of her time in the
latter residence in order to enjoy the sea-bathing. Though she was
obliged to drive through the town to her house in the Corso, or to
church, without exchanging greetings with a single human being, she
persisted in taking this drive daily. When her daughter grew older, she
allowed her to be present at the performances of plays and _tableaux
vivants_ at the evening parties, which the priests promoted under the
patronage of the Bishop, in order to assist the collection of Peter's
pence in Ancona; and so great was the beauty of the daughter, and the
attractions of the mother, that many people would go to these
entertainments who otherwise would certainly not have been seen there.
As was natural, the girl caught her mother's proud spirit of defiance,
and when, at the age of fourteen, she was left motherless, this spirit
developed further, with such additions as youth and high courage would
be likely to suggest. Rumour soon began to play with her name, more
freely and more critically than even it had done with that of her
mother, and her reputation extended over a wider area; for with an
elderly lady as chaperon--a stiff, decorous person, admirably adapted
for the office, who saw everything and said nothing--she travelled a
good deal in foreign countries, from