young man, about eighteen years old, evidently
the worse for want of exercise, and none the stronger minded for his
narrow course of education and instruction.

Gaetano introduced Caper to the young priest, and the artist, who, a
moment before entering the room, was as lively as the Infant Bacchus, at
once became melancholy as the Infant Samuel, and a feeling of such pity
seized him, that, endeavoring not to show it, he turned it into a
sentiment of interest in the young priest and his surroundings, admiring
the beautiful view from the window, and, turning inward to a poor wreath
of paper flowers hanging over a holy-water fount attached to the wall,
praised for their resemblance to natural flowers. (Was that untruth
unforgiven?)

'I made them,' said the young priest; 'but they are nothing to the ones
I have made for our church in Montelanico. I will show those to you.'
Opening a large paper box, he showed Caper wreaths and festoons of paper
flowers. 'I have spent weeks on weeks over them,' he continued, 'and
they will decorate the church at the next _festa_. I spend all my
leisure hours making artificial flowers.'

In answer to a question from Caper of the dress he then wore was the
usual one worn by the seminarists on important occasions, the young
priest answered him that it was not, and at once produced the full
dress, putting on the upper garment, a species of cassock, in order to
show him how it looked. He next called his attention to a curious old
work, full of engravings illustrating the different costumes of the
different orders of priests, and was in full discourse to describe them
all, when Gaetano told him that he was sorry, but that he had to go, as
he had some matters to attend to at the fair. So Caper bid the young
priest good-by, saying he regretted that he had not time to further
study the ecclesiastical costumes. A feeling of relief seized him when
he was once more in the open air--thoughts of gunning, fishing,
fighting, anything, so long as it was not the making paper flowers by
that poor, pale-faced boy: it was terrible!

There are several resident families in Anagni having titles; these are
known as the _stelle d'Anagni_ (stars of Anagni), and number among the
ladies many beautiful faces, if those pointed out to him were the true
stars. But it was, while smoking a cigar over a cup of coffee, that he
saw enter the cafe without exception one of the loveliest and most
attractive women he met in Ita