"Hardly that," observed Ugo with a smile. "When you married me, my
angel, you relinquished your claims to a seat at the Vatican functions."

"I did nothing of the kind. I never said so, I am sure."

"Perhaps if you could make that clear to the majorduomo--"

"Absurd, Ugo. You know it is. Besides, I will not beg. You must get me
the seat. You can do anything with your influence."

"You could easily get into one of the diplomatic tribunes," observed
Ugo.

"I will not go there. I mean to assert myself. I am a Roman lady and I
will have my seat, and you must get it for me."

"I will do my best. But I do not quite see where I am to begin. It will
need time and consideration and much tact."

"It seems to me very simple. Go to one of the clerical deputies and say
that you want the ticket for your wife--"

"And then?"

"Give him to understand that you will vote for his next measure. Nothing
could be simpler, I am sure."

Del Ferice smiled blandly at his wife's ideas of parliamentary
diplomacy.