n the horizontal rays, and the dark globe
of St. Peter's hovering over all. The mortal melancholy which had been
lying over the world seemed to be lifted away, and the earth smiled with
flowers and the heavens shone with gold.

Only the rhythmic cadence of the saddles broke the silence as they swung
to the movement of the horses. Sometimes they looked at each other, and
then they smiled, but they did not speak.

The sun went down, and there was a far-off ringing of bells. It was Ava
Maria. They drew up the horses for a moment and dropped their heads.
Then they started again.

The night chills were coming, and they rode hard. Roma bent over the
mane of her horse and looked proud and happy.

Grooms were waiting for them at the gate of St. Paul, and, giving up
their horses, they got into a carriage. When they reached Trinita de'
Monti the lamplighter was lighting the lamps on the steps of the piazza,
and Roma said in a low voice, with a blush and a smile:

"Don't come in to-night--not to-night, you know."

She wanted to be alone.

XI

Felice met Roma at the door of her own apartment, and in more than
usually sepulchral tones announced that the Countess had wished to see
her as soon as she came home. Without waiting to change her
riding-habit, Roma turned into her aunt's room.

The old lady was propped up with pillows, and Natalina was fussing about
her. Her eyes glittered, her thin lips were compressed, and regardless
of the presence of the maid, she straightway fell upon Roma with bitter
reproaches.

"Did you wish to see me, aunt?" said Roma, and the old lady answered in
a mocking falsetto:

"Did I wish to see you, miss? Certainly I wished to see you, although
I'm a broken-hearted woman and sorry for the day I saw you first."

"What have I done now?" said Roma, and the radiant look in her face
provoked the old lady to still louder denunciations.

"What have you done? Mercy me!... Give me my salts, Natalina!"

"Natalina," said Roma quietly, "lay out my studio things, and if Bruno
has gone, tell Felice to light the lamps and see to the stove
downstairs."

The old lady fanned herself with her embroidered handkerchief and began
again.

"I thought you meant to mend your ways when you came in yesterday,
miss--you were so meek and modest. But what was the fact? You had come
to me straight from that man's apartments. You had! You know you had!
Don't try to deny it."

"I don