skilful strategy; however she hoped that her well-known affection for
Celia, whose god-mother she was, would explain her presence in that
neutral mansion where Vatican and Quirinal had met. At the same time she
must have retained certain scruples, for she declared that directly after
dinner she was going to the Vatican to see the Cardinal Secretary, to
whom she desired to speak about an enterprise of which she was
lady-patroness. This visit would compensate for her attendance at the
Buongiovanni entertainment. And on the other hand never had Donna
Serafina seemed so zealous and hopeful of her brother's speedy accession
to the throne of St. Peter: therein lay a supreme triumph, an elevation
of her race, which her pride deemed both needful and inevitable; and
indeed during Leo XIII's last indisposition she had actually concerned
herself about the trousseau which would be needed and which would require
to be marked with the new Pontiff's arms.

On her side, Benedetta was all gaiety during the repast, laughing at
everything, and speaking of Celia and Attilio with the passionate
affection of a woman whose own happiness delights in that of her friends.
Then, just as the dessert had been served, she turned to the servant with
an air of surprise: "Well, and the figs, Giacomo?" she asked.

Giacomo, slow and sleepy of notion, looked at her without understanding.
However, Victorine was crossing the room, and Benedetta's next question
was for her: "Why are the figs not served, Victorine?" she inquired.

"What figs, Contessina?"

"Why the figs I saw in the pantry as I passed through it this morning on
my way to the garden. They were in a little basket and looked superb. I
was even astonished to see that there were still some fresh figs left at