"Perhaps I would, perhaps I wouldn't," said Bruno, and then he wagged

his wise head and growled, "In the battle of love he wins who flies."

"Does he say that, Bruno?"

"He does. One day our old woman was trying to lead him on a bit. 'A

heart to share your joys and sorrows is something in this world,' says

she."

"And what did Mr. Rossi say?"

"'A woman's love is the sweetest thing in the world,' he said; 'but if I

found myself caring too much for anybody I should run away.'"

"Did Mr. Rossi really say that, Bruno?"

"He did--upon my life he did!"

Bruno had the air of a man who had achieved a moral victory, and Roma,

whose eyes were dancing with delight, wanted to fall on his stupid,

sulky face and kiss and kiss it.

During the afternoon of the day following, the Princess Bellini came in

with Don Camillo. "Here's Gi-gi!" she cried. "He comes to say there's to

be a meet of the foxhounds on the Campagna to-morrow. If you'd like to

come I'll take you, and if you think Mr. Rossi will come too...."

"If he rides and has time to spare," said Roma.

"Precisely," said Don Camillo. "The worst of being a prophet is that it

gives one so much trouble to agree with one's self, you know. Rumour

says that our illustrious Deputy has been a little out of odour with his

own people lately, and is now calling a meeting to tell the world what

his 'Creed and Charter' doesn't mean. Still a flight into the country

might do no harm even to the stormy petrel of politics, and if any one

could prevail with him...."

"Leave that to Roma, and see to everything else yourself," said the

Princess. "On the way to that tiresome tea-room in the Corso, my dear.

'Charity and Work,' you know. Committee for the protection of poor

girls, or something. But we must see the old aunt first, I suppose. Come

in, Gi-gi!"

Three minutes afterwards Roma was dressed for the street, and her dog

was leaping and barking beside her.

"Carriage, Eccellenza?"

"Not to-day, thank you! Down, Black, down! Keep the dog from following

me, Felice."

As she passed the lodge the porter handed her an envelope bearing the

seal of the Minister, but she did not stop to open it. With a light step

she tripped along the street, hailed a coupé, cried "Piazza Navona,"

and then composed herself to read her letter.




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