'Vatican question' has ceased to exist; the Italian Government may
fairly be said to be at peace with the Church; the old bitterness may
survive amongst certain prejudiced people, chiefly in small towns, but
the spirit of this time is a spirit of good-will and mutual
forbearance, and the forces that were once so fiercely opposed
actually work together for the common good in many more cases than the
world knows of. The first article of the Italian Constitution states
that the religion of the Kingdom is that of the Roman Catholic Church;
it is, and it will continue to be, and no attempt will ever be made on
the part of the Monarchy to change or to cancel that opening clause.
The danger to which the Church is exposed lies in another quarter, and
threatens not only the Church, but Christianity in all its forms; not
only Christianity, but the Monarchy; and not the Monarchy only, but
all constitutional and civilised government. It is anarchy; and though
it boasts itself to be socialism, true socialists disclaim it and its
doings and all its opinions. If it can be so far honoured as to be
counted as a party, it is the party that murdered King Humbert, that
assassinated the Empress of Austria, and that would sooner or later
kill the Pope, if he left the safe refuge which some persons still
insist on calling his prison.

It is the party that continually spies upon all religious and
charitable institutions in Rome, and does not hesitate to invent
stories of crime outright when it fails to detect one of those little
flaws which its press magnifies to stains of abomination.

Monsignor Saracinesca understood these things better than the others
concerned, and at least as well as any one in Rome. As for Giovanni,
he had known him a little in former days and took him to be a man of
honour, who would submit to any conditions necessary for protecting
the nun from calumny. But he could hardly believe that the young
officer's feelings had undergone no change in five years, for he
judged men as most men judge each other. It was one thing to fall in
love with a charming young girl in her first season; it was quite
another to love her faithfully for five years, without ever seeing her
or hearing from her, and to feel no disappointment on finding her as
much changed as Angela was now, pale, sorrow-worn, and of no
particular age. The true bloom of youth is something real, but it
rarely lasts more than two years; it is as subtle and indescribab