crimes
of all--the peasant that tills the soil, and the prince that sits on the
throne!"

"Tre-men-jous!" said the American.

"But, dear Baron," said the little Princess, "don't you think there was
an affair of the heart after all?" and the little plumes bobbed
sideways.

The Baron laughed again. "The Pope seems to have half of humanity on his
side already--he has the women apparently."

All this time there had risen from the piazza into the room a humming
noise like the swarming of bees, but now a shrill voice came up from the
crowd with the sudden swish of a rocket.

"Look out!"

The young Roman, who had been looking over the balcony, turned his head
back and said:

"Donna Roma, Excellency."

But the Baron had gone from the room.

"He knew her carriage wheels apparently," said Don Camillo, and the lips
of the little Princess closed tight as if from sudden pain.

V

The return of the Baron was announced by the faint rustle of a silk
under-skirt and a light yet decided step keeping pace with his own. He
came back with Donna Roma on his arm, and over his coolness and calm
dignity he looked pleased and proud.

The lady herself was brilliantly animated and happy. A certain swing in
her graceful carriage gave an instant impression of perfect health, and
there was physical health also in the brightness of her eyes and the
gaiety of her expression. Her face was lighted up by a smile which
seemed to pervade her whole person and make it radiant with overflowing
joy. A vivacity which was at the same time dignified and spontaneous
appeared in every movement of her harmonious figure, and as she came
into the room there was a glow of health and happiness that filled the
air like the glow of sunlight through a veil of soft red gauze.

She saluted the Baron's guests with a smile that fascinated everybody.
There was a modified air of freedom about her, as of one who has a right
to make advances, a manner which captivates all women in a queen and all
men in a lovely woman.

"Ah, it is you, General Potter? And my dear General Morra? Camillo mio!"
(The Italian had rushed upon her and kissed her hand.) "Sir Evelyn Wise,
from England, isn't it? I'm half an Englishwoman myself, and I'm very
proud of it."

She had smiled frankly into Sir Evelyn's face, and he had smiled back
without knowing it. There was something contagious about her smile. The
rosy mouth with its pearly teeth seemed t