coat collar.

It was, of course, an extremely undignified attitude for the Swiss
Guards, whose position is simply an ornamental one. Nothing but the
most unparalleled outrage to their dignity could have moved them to
this. So unusual a display of energy, however, did not last long. A
few persons in citizens' clothes darted forward from among the crowd,
and secured the stranger; while the Swiss, seeing who they were,
resumed their erect, rigid, and ornamental attitude. The Pope found no
longer any obstacle, and resumed his descent. For a moment the
stranger had created a wide-spread consternation in the breasts of all
the different and very numerous classes of men who composed that
crowd. The arrest was the signal for a murmur of voices, among which
the ladies heard those of the knot of Englishmen who stood near.

"It's some Garibaldian," said they.

And this was the general sentiment.

Several hours after this they were at home, and a caller was
announced. It was the Baron Atramonte.

"Atramonte!" said Lady Dalrymple. "Who is that? We're not at home, of
course. Atramonte! Some of these Italian nobles. Really, I think we
have seen enough of them. Who is he, Kitty?"

"I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea. I never heard of him in my
life."

"We're not at home, of course. It's a singular way, and surely can not