programme, through Rome at that delightful hour when the sun sinks in the
refreshed and far blue atmosphere. Almost immediately, however, he found
himself in the Via Nazionale, along which he had driven on arriving the
previous day. And he recognised the huge livid Banca d'Italia, the green
gardens climbing to the Quirinal, and the heaven-soaring pines of the
Villa Aldobrandini. Then, at the turn of the street, as he stopped short
in order that he might again contemplate the column of Trajan which now
rose up darkly from its low piazza, already full of twilight, he was
surprised to see a victoria suddenly pull up, and a young man courteously
beckon to him.

"Monsieur l'Abbe Froment! Monsieur l'Abbe Froment!"

It was young Prince Dario Boccanera, on his way to his daily drive along
the Corso. He now virtually subsisted on the liberality of his uncle the
Cardinal, and was almost always short of money. But, like all the Romans,
he would, if necessary, have rather lived on bread and water than have
forgone his carriage, horse, and coachman. An equipage, indeed, is the
one indispensable luxury of Rome.

"If you will come with me, Monsieur l'Abbe Froment," said the young
Prince, "I will show you the most interesting part of our city."

He doubtless desired to please Benedetta, by behaving amiably towards her
protege. Idle as he was, too, it seemed to him a pleasant occupation to
initiate that young priest, who was said to be so intelligent, into what
he deemed the inimitable side, the true florescence of Roman life.

Pierre was compelled to accept, although he would have preferred a
solitary stroll. Yet he was interested in this young man, the last born