ards. They did not see him, however, until, as
they slowly moved out, they were stopped and greeted with astonishing
eagerness. The Don shook hands cordially. The Donna--that is, the
elder sister--smiled sweetly. Ida blushed and cast down her eyes.

Nothing could be more gratifying than this reception. Where had he
been? How long in Rome? Why had they not met before? Strange that
they had not seen him about the city. And had he really been here
three weeks? Buttons informed them that he had seen them several
times, but at a distance. He had been at all the hotels, but had
not seen their names.

Hotels! Oh, they lived in lodgings in the Palazzo Concini, not far
from the Piazza del Popolo. And how much longer did he intend to
stay?--Oh, no particular time. His friends enjoyed themselves here
very much. He did not know exactly when they would leave. How long
would they remain?--They intended to leave for Florence on the
following week.--Ah! He was thinking of leaving for the same place
at about the same time. Whereupon the Don expressed a polite hope
that they might see one another on the journey.

By this time the crowd had diminished. They looked on while the Pope
entered his state-coach, and with strains of music, and prancing of
horses, and array of dragoons, drove magnificently away.

The Don turned to Buttons: Would he not accompany them to their
lodgings? They were just about returning to dinner. If he were
disengaged they should be most happy to have the honor of his
company.

Buttons tried very hard to look as though he were not mad with
eagerness to accept the invitation, but not very successfully. The
carriage drove off rapidly. The Don and Buttons on one seat, the
ladies on the other.

Then the face of Ida as she sat opposite! Such a face! Such a smile!
Such witchery in her expression! Such music in her laugh!

At any rate so it seemed to Buttons, and that is all that is needed.

On through the streets of Rome; past the post-office, round the column
of Antoninus, up the Corso, until at last they stopped in front of
an immense edifice which had once been a palace. The descendants of
the family lived in a remote corner, and their poverty compelled them
to let out all the remainder as lodgings. This is no uncommon thing
in Italy. Indeed, there are so many ruined nobles in the country that
those are fortunate who have a shelter over their heads. Buttons
remarked this to the Don, who told some stories of t