face exactly like his, which, the last time, had
turned into his without doubt. Yet she had evidently made no impression
upon him, until she had made a very bad one, the other day. She wondered
whether he thought she was a little mad. She was afraid of meeting him
wherever she went, and yet she now wished he were at the table, in order
that she might prove to him that she was not only sane, but very clever.
She knew that she wished it, and for a few moments she did not hear what
Guido was saying, but gazed absently at the flowers on the table,
unconsciously hoping that she might see them turn into the face she
feared; but that did not happen.

Guido talked on, till he saw that she was not listening, and then he was
silent, and only glanced at her from time to time while he heard in his
ears the cackling of the vivid lady in green. There was going to be a
change in the destinies of womankind, and everybody was to be perfectly
frightful for ever afterwards. To be plain, the sleeves "they" were
wearing now were to be altogether given up. "They" had begun to wear the
new ones already in Paris. Rejane had worn them in her new piece, and of
course that meant an imminent and universal change. And as for the way
the skirts were to be made, it was positively indecent. Rejane was far
too much of a lady to wear one, of course, but one could see what was
coming. Here some one observed that coming events cast their shadows
before.

"Not at all, not at all!" cried the lady in green. "I mean behind."

"How long shall you stay in Rome?" Guido asked, to see whether Cecilia
would hear him now.

"Always," she answered. "For the rest of my life."

"I am glad of that. But I meant to ask how late you intended to stay
this year?"

"I should like to spend the summer here."

"It is the pleasantest time," Guido said.

"Is it? Or are you only saying that in order to agree with me? You need
not, you know. I like people who have their own opinions, and are full
of prejudices, and try to force them upon everybody, whether they are
good for every one or not!"

"I am afraid I shall not please you, then. I have no prejudices to speak
of, and my opinions are worth so little that I never hesitate to change
them."

"But you do not look at all feeble-minded," said Cecilia, innocently
studying his face.

"Thank you!" Guido laughed. "You are adorable!" he added rather
flippantly.

"Is that your opinion?" asked the young girl, smiling, too, as