"Yes, madame, the Count," Pierre answered. "I saw him again last night;
he was overcome, and really deserves to be pitied."

The two women took no offence at this charitable remark which fell from
the young priest with such deep and natural emotion, full as he was of
overflowing love and compassion for one and all. Donna Serafina remained
motionless as if she had not even heard him, and Benedetta made a gesture
which seemed to imply that she had neither pity nor hatred to express for
a man who had become a perfect stranger to her. However, she no longer
laughed, but, thinking of the little basket which had travelled in
Prada's carriage, she said: "Ah! I don't care for those figs at all now,
I am even glad that I haven't eaten any of them."

Immediately after the coffee Donna Serafina withdrew, saying that she was
at once going to the Vatican; and the others, being left to themselves,
lingered at table, again full of gaiety, and chatting like friends. The
priest, with his feverish impatience, once more referred to the audience
which he was to have that evening. It was now barely two o'clock, and he
had seven more hours to wait. How should he employ that endless
afternoon? Thereupon Benedetta good-naturedly made him a proposal. "I'll
tell you what," said she, "as we are all in such good spirits we mustn't
leave one another. Dario has his victoria, you know. He must have
finished lunch by now, and I'll ask him to take us for a long drive along
the Tiber."

This fine project so delighted her that she began to clap her hands; but
just then Don Vigilio appeared with a scared look on his face. "Isn't the
Princess here?" he inquired.