gardens a wonderfully beautiful girl, strolling in the train of this conspicuous couple.  He looked for her now, and in a moment she appeared, following her companions with the same nonchalant step as before, and leading her great snow-white poodle, decorated with motley ribbons.  The elder lady offered the two young men a sufficiently gracious salute; the little old gentleman bowed and smiled with extreme alertness.  The young girl, without casting a glance either at Roderick or at Rowland, looked about for a chair, and, on perceiving one, sank into it listlessly, pulled her poodle towards her, and began to rearrange his top-knot.  Rowland saw that, even with her eyes dropped, her beauty was still dazzling.

“I trust we are at liberty to enter,” said the elder lady, with majesty.  “We were told that Mr. Hudson had no fixed day, and that we might come at any time.  Let us not disturb you.”

Roderick, as one of the lesser lights of the Roman art-world, had not hitherto been subject to incursions from inquisitive tourists, and, having no regular reception day, was not versed in the usual formulas of welcome.  He said nothing, and Rowland, looking at him, saw that he was looking amazedly at the young girl and was apparently unconscious of everything else.  “By Jove!” he cried precipitately, “it ’s that goddess of the Villa Ludovisi!” Rowland in some confusion, did the honors as he could, but the little old gentleman begged him with the most obsequious of smiles to give himself no trouble.  “I have been in many a studio!” he said, with his finger on his nose and a strong Italian accent.

“We are going about everywhere,” said his companion.  “I am passionately fond of art!”

Rowland smiled sympathetically, and let them turn to Roderick’s statue.  He glanced again at the young sculptor, to invite him to bestir himself, but Roderick was still gazing wide-eyed at the beautiful young mistress of the poodle, who by this time had looked up and was gazing straight at him.  There was nothing bold in her look; it expressed a kind of languid, imperturbable indifference.  Her beauty was extraordinary; it grew and grew as the young man observed her.  In such a face the maidenly custom of averted eyes and ready blushes would have seemed an anomaly; nature had produced it for man’s delight and meant that it should surrender itself freely and coldly to admiration.  It was not immediately apparent, however, that the young lady found an answering entertainment in the physiognomy of her host; she turned her head after a moment and looked idly round the room, and at last let her eyes rest on the statue of the woman seated.  It being left to Rowland to stimulate conversation, he began by complimenting her on the beauty of her dog.

“Yes, he ’s very handsome,” she murmured.  “He ’s a Florentine.  The dogs in Florence are handsomer than the people.”  And on Rowland’s caressing him:  “His name is Stenterello,” she added.  “Stenterello, give your hand to the gentleman.”  This order was given in Italian.  “Say buon giorno a lei.”