eaning for
him. But the next moment he looked towards Romola, as if her eyes must
be her father's interpreters. She, intensely preoccupied with what
related to her father, imagined that Tito was looking to her again for
some guidance, and immediately spoke.

"Alessandra Scala delights in gems, you know, father; she calls them her
winter flowers; and the Segretario would be almost sure to buy any gems
that she wished for. Besides, he himself sets great store by rings and
sigils, which he wears as a defence against pains in the joints."

"It is true," said Bardo. "Bartolommeo has overmuch confidence in the
efficacy of gems--a confidence wider than what is sanctioned by Pliny,
who clearly shows that he regards many beliefs of that sort as idle
superstitions; though not to the utter denial of medicinal virtues in
gems. Wherefore, I myself, as you observe, young man, wear certain
rings, which the discreet Camillo Leonardi prescribed to me by letter
when two years ago I had a certain infirmity of sudden numbness. But
thou hast spoken well, Romola. I will dictate a letter to Bartolommeo,
which Maso shall carry. But it were well that Messere should notify to
thee what the gems are, together with the intagli they bear, as a
warrant to Bartolommeo that they will be worthy of his attention."

"Nay, father," said Romola, whose dread lest a paroxysm of the
collector's mania should seize her father, gave her the courage to
resist his proposal. "Your word will be sufficient that Messere is a
scholar and has travelled much. The Segretario will need no further
inducement to receive him."

"True, child," said Bardo, touched on a chord that was sure to respond.
"I have no need to add proofs and arguments in confirmation of my word
to Bartolommeo. And I doubt not that this young man's presence is in
accord with the tones of his voice, so that, the door being once opened,
he will be his own best advocate."

Bardo paused a few moments, but his silence was evidently charged with
some idea that he was hesitating to express, for he once leaned forward
a little as if he were going to speak, then turned his head aside
towards Romola and sank backward again. At last, as if he had made up
his mind, he said in a tone which might have become a prince giving the
courteous signal of dismissal--

"I am somewhat fatigued this morning, and shall prefer seeing you again
to-morrow, when I shall be able to give you the secretary's answer,