"But heigh-ho, nonny! Coming home I felt like the witches in 'Macbeth.'

'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.' It was

Senator Tom-tit, the little fat Mayor of Rome. His great ambition is to

wear the green ribbon of St. Maurice and Lazarus, as none know better

than myself. Wanting money on my fountain, I had written to the old

wretch, but the moment we met I could see what was coming, so I braved

it out, bustled about and made a noise. It was a mistake! There had been

no commission at all! But if a little money would repay me for a loss of

time....

"It wasn't so much that I cared about the loss of the fees, badly as I

needed them. It was mainly that I had allowed the summer flies who

buzzed about me for the Baron's sake to flatter me into the notion that

I was an artist, when I was really nobody for myself at all.

"This humour lasted all afternoon, and spoiled my digestion for dinner,

which was a pity, for there was some delicious wild asparagus. But then

I thought of you and your work, and the future when you will come back

with all Rome at your feet, and my vexation disappeared and I was

content to be nothing and nobody except somebody whom you loved and who

loved you, and that was to be everything and everybody in the world.

"I don't care a rush about the matter now, but what do you think I've

done? Sold my carriage and horses! Actually! The little job-master, with

his tight trousers, close-cropped head, and chamois-leather waistcoat,

has just gone off after cheating me abominably. No matter! What do I

want with a grand carriage while you are going about as an exile and an

outcast? I want nothing you have not got, and all I have I wish you to

have too, including my heart and my soul and everything that is in

them...."

She stopped. This was the place to reveal her great secret. But she

could not find her way to begin. "To-morrow will do," she thought, and

so laid down the pen.

V

Early next morning Roma received a visit from the lawyer who conducted

the business of her landlord. He was a middle-aged man in

pepper-and-salt tweeds, and his manner was brusque and aggressive.

"Sorry to say, Excellency, that I've had a letter from Count Mario at

Paris saying that he will require this apartment for his own use. He

regrets to be compelled to disturb you, but having frequently apprised

you of his intention to live here himself...."




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