of a family
crisis of his own. I am here with the butler and his wife to take care
of me, and I am perfectly safe. Don't be alarmed, and don't tell Aunt
Alice that the elaborate new gowns will have no spectators save two
Roman peasants and possibly a few sheep. Anna wanted to send me an
English maid from Rome, but I begged with tears, and she let me off.
Assunta is all I need. She and Giacomo are the real thing, peasants,
and absolutely unspoiled. They have never been five miles away from the
estate, and I know they have all kinds of superstitions and beliefs
that go with the soil. I shall find them out when I can understand. At
present we converse with eyes and fingers, for our six weeks' study of
Italian has not brought me knowledge enough to order my dinner.

Padre carissimo, I've written to Eustace to take it all back. I am
afraid you won't like it, for you seemed pleased when it was broken
off, but I was unkind and I am sorry, and I want to make amends. You
really oughtn't to disapprove of a man, you know, just because he wants
altar candles and intones the service. And I think his single-minded
devotion is beautiful. You do not know what a refuge it has been to me
through all Aunt Alice's receptions and teas.

Do leave New York, and come and live with me near ancient Rome. We can
easily slip back two thousand years.

I am your spoiled daughter, Daphne

There was a knock at the door.

"Avanti," called the girl.

Assunta entered, with a saffron-colored night-cap on. In her hand she
held Giacomo's great brass watch, and she pointed in silence to the
face, which said twelve o'clock. She put watch and candle on the
table, marched to the windows, and closed and bolted them all.

"The candles are lighted in the Signorina's bedroom," she remarked.

"Thank you," said Daphne, who did not understand a word.

"The bed is prepared, and the night things are put out."

"Yes?" answered Daphne, smiling.

"The hot water will be at the door at eight in the morning."

"So many thanks!" murmured Daphne, not knowing what favor was bestowed,
but knowing that if it came from Assunta it was good.

"Good-night, Signorina."

The girl's face lighted. She understood that.

"Good-night," she answered, in the Roman tongue.

Assunta muttered to herself as she lighted her way with her candle down
the long hall.

"Molto intelligente, la Signorina! Only here three days, and already
understands all."

"You don't