illiant circles
his mother drew around her. Better for him to be the center of one of
those than alone and solitary in England.

"Of course," said the countess, diplomatically, "I will not urge you, I
leave it entirely to you. If you think what the fashion of the day calls
your duties demand that you should return, do not let me detain you,
even for one day."

"I have no particular duties," he said, half gloomily.

He would have liked his mother to have insisted on his going, to have
been more imperative, but as she left it entirely to him, he thought her
indifferent over the matter.

He was a true man. If she had pressed him to go, urged him, tried to
persuade him, he would have gone back to England, and the tragedy of
after years would never have happened. As it occurred to him that his
mother simply gave the invitation out of politeness, and did not care
whether he accepted or not, he decided on going. So when the festivities
of Berlin were all ended, he wrote to Leone, saying that he was going to
spend the winter with his parents in Rome; that if he could not spend it
with her, it mattered little enough to him where is was; but that he was
longing with all his heart for the thirtieth of June.

CHAPTER XXIV.

IN THE HANDS OF A CLEVER WOMAN.

"In Rome," said Lady Marion Erskine, to her cousin; "how strange it
seems to be really here! Do you know that when I was a little girl and
learned Roman history I always thought it a grand fable. I never
believed such a place really existed. Rome is a link between the old
world and the new."

"Yes," replied Lady Cambrey, "it is quite true, my dear."

She had no notion, even ever so vague, of what her beautiful young
kinswoman meant.

Lady Cambrey was not given to the cultivation of ideas, but she was
always most amiably disposed to please Lady Marion. It was something
very delightful to be the chaperon of a beautiful young heiress like
Lady Erskine, and she was always delighted to agree with Lady Marion's
words, opinions, and ideas.

Lady Marion was submissive and gentle by nature. She was one of the
class of women born to be ruled and not to rule. She could never govern,
but she could obey. She could not command, but she could carry out the
wishes of others to the last letter.

Lady Cambrey, from motives of her own, wanted her to go to Rome. She had
managed it without the least trouble.

"Marion," she said, "have you decided where to spend the winter?"