announcing a sale of "Old and New Objects
of Art" in the "Appartamento Volonna." Then came the "Grand
Esposizione"--it was on Sunday morning--and the following day the
auction.

Roma built herself an ambush from prying eyes in one corner of the
apartment. She turned her boudoir into a bedroom and sitting-room
combined. From there she heard the shuffling of feet as the people
assembled in the large dismantled drawing-room without. She was writing
at a table when some one knocked at the door. It was the Commendatore
Angelelli, in light clothes and silk hat. At that moment the look of
servility in his long face prevailed over the look of arrogance.

"Good-morning, Donna Roma. May I perhaps...."

"Come in."

The lanky person settled himself comfortably and began on a confidential
communication.

"The Baron, sincerely sorry to hear of your distresses, sends me to say
that you have only to make a request and this unseemly scene shall come
to an end. In fact, I have authority to act on his behalf--as an unknown
friend, you know--and stop these proceedings even at the eleventh hour.
Only a word from you--one word--and everything shall be settled
satisfactorily."

Roma was silent for a moment, and the Commendatore concluded that his
persuasions had prevailed. Somebody else knocked at the door.

"Come in," said the Commendatore largely.

This time it was the auctioneer. "Time to begin the sale, Signorina. Any
commands?" He glanced from Roma to Angelelli with looks of
understanding.

"I think her Excellency has perhaps something to say," said Angelelli.

"Nothing whatever. Go on," said Roma.

The auctioneer disappeared through the door, and Angelelli put on his
hat.

"Then you have no answer for his Excellency?"

"None."

"_Bene_," said the Commendatore, and he went off whistling softly.

The auction began. At a table on a platform where the piano used to
stand sat the chief auctioneer with his ivory hammer. Beneath him at a
similar table sat an assistant. As the men in red caps brought up the
goods the two auctioneers took the bidding together, repeating each
other in the manner of actor and prompter at an Italian theatre.

The English Sister came to say that the Countess wished to see her niece
immediately. The invalid, now frightfully emaciated and no longer able
to sit up, was lying back on her lace-edged pillows. She was plucking
with shrivelled and bony fingers at her figured counterpane, and as Roma
en