"Nevertheless," said Roma, "that is what I intend to do. Good-morning!"

Lena had barely crossed the doorstep when a more important person drove

up. This was the Senator Palomba, Mayor of Rome, a suave, oily man, with

little twinkling eyes.

"Come to offer you my sympathy, my dear! Scandalous libels. Liberty of

the press, indeed! Disgraceful! It's in all the newspapers--I've brought

them with me. One journal actually points at you personally. See--'A

lady sculptor who has recently secured a commission from the

Municipality through the influence of a distinguished person.' Most

damaging, isn't it? The elections so near, too! We must publicly deny

the statement. Ah, don't be alarmed! Only way out of a nest of hornets.

Nothing like diplomacy, you know. Of course the Municipality will buy

your fountain just the same, but I thought I would come round and

explain before publishing anything."

Roma said nothing, and the great man backed himself out with the air of

one who had conferred a favour, but before going he had a favour to ask

in return.

"It's rumoured this morning, my dear, that the Government is about to

organise a system of secret police--and quite right, too. You remember

my nephew, Charles Minghelli? I brought him here when he came from

Paris. Well, Charles would like to be at the head of the new force. The

very man! Finds out everything that happens, from the fall of a pin to

an attempt at revolution, and if Donna Roma will only say a word for

him.... Thanks!... What a beautiful bust! Yours, of course? A

masterpiece! Fit to put beside the masterpieces of old Rome."

The Mayor was not yet out of the drawing-room when a third visitor was

in the hall. It was Madame Sella, a fashionable modiste, with social

pretensions, who contrived to live on terms of quasi-intimacy with her

aristocratic customers.

"Trust I am not de trop! I knew you wouldn't mind my calling in the

morning. What a scandalous speech of that agitator yesterday! Everybody

is talking about it. In fact, people say you will go away. It isn't

true, is it? No? So glad! So relieved!... By the way, my dear, don't

trouble about those stupid bills of mine, but ... I'm giving a little

reception next week, and if the Baron would only condescend ... you'll

mention it? A thousand thanks! Good-morning!"

"Count Mario," announced Felice, and an effeminate old dandy came

tripping into the room. He was Roma's landlord and the Italian

Ambassador at St. Petersburg.

"So good of you to see me, Donna Roma. Such an uncanonical hour, too,

but I do hope the Baron will not be driven to resign office on account

of these malicious slanders. You think not? So pleased!"




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