--he has not returned."

The American princess towered in slim height above the stolid dumpiness
of the duchess. From appearance one would never have guessed rightly
which of the two women could trace her lineage for over a thousand
years.

The mouth of the duchess went down hard in the corners, and her dull,
turtle eyes contracted, then her lips snapped open to answer, but
Giovanni again saved her the trouble. "I met Scorpa on the street about
ten minutes ago. He was going toward the Circolo d'Acacia."

"Ah yes, Todo was filled with regret, as he wanted to show Miss Randolph
the portraits," haltingly echoed the duchess, but she glanced uneasily
at the door. "I was glad he did not see her indisposition--he has a
heart as tender as a woman's, and it would have distressed him greatly!
I do hope, princess, that you will find her quite recovered on your
return. I think it must be the effect of sirocco."

The other guests supported her in chorus. "The sirocco is very
treacherous," ventured one. "She was perhaps not acclimatized to Rome,"
said a second. "I thought she looked pale," chimed a third.

The princess made her adieus at once and, followed by Giovanni, left the
palace. For a few minutes the various groups, disposed about the Scorpa
drawing-room, conversed in low whispers, but by the time the Sanseveros
were well out of earshot the duchess had turned to the whispering groups
with a hauteur of expression conveying quite plainly that it was not to
be endured that a Sansevero, born American, should imply a criticism of
a Duchess Scorpa, born Orsonna.

"A headstrong young barbarian from the United States is quite beyond my
control," she shrugged. "How can I help it if she chooses to run from
the palace, like Cinderella when the clock strikes twelve!"

One or two of those present who were friends of the Princess Sansevero
may have resented the implied slight to her democratic birth. But though
there was a vague appreciation of something beneath the surface in this
American girl's sudden departure, there was nothing to which any one
could take exception.

The Contessa Potensi, however, had long waited for just such an
opportunity, and seized it. "I felt sorry for Eleanor Sansevero," she
said sweetly. "It puts her in an unendurable position to have to defend
such a person. Naturally she _has_ to defend her, since she is her
niece. I am sure she did not want her for the winter--but her parents
would not keep her. It