“Of course you must go—­”

“And I must have my seat among the Roman ladies”

“Of course you must,” repeated Del Ferice with a little less alacrity.

“Ah!  You see.  It is not so easy.  You know it is not.  Yet I have as good a right to my seat as any one—­better perhaps.”

“Hardly that,” observed Ugo with a smile.  “When you married me, my angel, you relinquished your claims to a seat at the Vatican functions.”

“I did nothing of the kind.  I never said so, I am sure.”

“Perhaps if you could make that clear to the majorduomo—­”

“Absurd, Ugo.  You know it is.  Besides, I will not beg.  You must get me the seat.  You can do anything with your influence.”

“You could easily get into one of the diplomatic tribunes,” observed Ugo.

“I will not go there.  I mean to assert myself.  I am a Roman lady and I will have my seat, and you must get it for me.”

“I will do my best.  But I do not quite see where I am to begin.  It will need time and consideration and much tact.”

“It seems to me very simple.  Go to one of the clerical deputies and say that you want the ticket for your wife—­”

“And then?”

“Give him to understand that you will vote for his next measure.  Nothing could be simpler, I am sure.”

Del Ferice smiled blandly at his wife’s ideas of parliamentary diplomacy.

“There are no clerical deputies in the parliament of the nation.  If there were the thing might be possible, and it would be very interesting to all the clericals to read an account of the transaction in the Osservatore Romano.  In any case, I am not sure that it will be much to our advantage that the wife of the Onorevole Del Ferice should be seen seated in the midst of the Black ladies.  It will produce an unfavourable impression.”

“If you are going to talk of impressions—­” Donna Tullia shrugged her massive shoulders.

“No, my dear.  You mistake me.  I am not going to talk of them, because, as I at once told you, it is quite right that you should go to this affair.  If you go, you must go in the proper way.  No doubt there will be people who will have invitations but will not use them.  We can perhaps procure you the use of such a ticket.”

“I do not care what name is on the paper, provided I can sit in the right place.”

“Very well,” answered Del Ferice.  “I will do my best.”

“I expect it of you, Ugo.  It is not often that I ask anything of you, is it?  It is the least you can do.  The idea of getting a card that is not to be used is good; of course they will all get them, and some of them are sure to be ill.”