was wretched to disappoint madame: he begged a thousand pardons. His
little boy was taken violently ill: he was forced to go for the doctor;
madame was so good.

The truth flashed upon me: "Piero, how much did the count give you to
stay away last night?"

A gleam of humor twinkled in his black eyes, but it was speedily
quenched: "I do not understand what madame wishes to say."

It happened that a friend and country-woman at our hotel was taken ill
with typhoid fever, and amid the anxieties of her sick room the
incipient love-affair was almost forgotten. I no longer spent the
evenings in the parlor. One day Miss St. Clair showed me a tiny satin
bag beautifully embroidered, with a soft silken chain to pass around the
neck. "What can it be for?" she asked.

"Why, Helen, it is an amulet. Where did you get it?"

"The count gave it to me. He had the loveliest set of Byzantine mosaics
and pearls which he wished to give me; and when I would not accept them
he seemed so hurt that I did not like to refuse this trifle. What do you
suppose is in it."

"A relic of some saint, without doubt. He thinks it will protect you
from fever perhaps."

Like most Americans, we were desirous of seeing the pope, and Count
Alvala obtained for us the necessary permission. We were to be received
on a Saturday at eleven. We went in the prescribed costume, black silk,