“Evidently,” said Rowland, “you are a very devoted friend.  Mrs. Light, in her situation, is very happy in having you.”

“We are old friends,” said the Cavaliere, gravely.  “Old friends.  I knew the signora many years ago, when she was the prettiest woman in Rome—­or rather in Ancona, which is even better.  The beautiful Christina, now, is perhaps the most beautiful young girl in Europe!”

“Very likely,” said Rowland.

“Very well, sir, I taught her to read; I guided her little hands to touch the piano keys.”  And at these faded memories, the Cavaliere’s eyes glittered more brightly.  Rowland half expected him to proceed, with a little flash of long-repressed passion, “And now—­and now, sir, they treat me as you observed the other day!” But the Cavaliere only looked out at him keenly from among his wrinkles, and seemed to say, with all the vividness of the Italian glance, “Oh, I say nothing more.  I am not so shallow as to complain!”

Evidently the Cavaliere was not shallow, and Rowland repeated respectfully, “You are a devoted friend.”

“That ’s very true.  I am a devoted friend.  A man may do himself justice, after twenty years!”

Rowland, after a pause, made some remark about the beauty of the ball.  It was very brilliant.

“Stupendous!” said the Cavaliere, solemnly.  “It is a great day.  We have four Roman princes, to say nothing of others.”  And he counted them over on his fingers and held up his hand triumphantly.  “And there she stands, the girl to whom I—­I, Giuseppe Giacosa—­taught her alphabet and her piano-scales; there she stands in her incomparable beauty, and Roman princes come and bow to her.  Here, in his corner, her old master permits himself to be proud.”

“It is very friendly of him,” said Rowland, smiling.

The Cavaliere contracted his lids a little more and gave another keen glance.  “It is very natural, signore.  The Christina is a good girl; she remembers my little services.  But here comes,” he added in a moment, “the young Prince of the Fine Arts.  I am sure he has bowed lowest of all.”

Rowland looked round and saw Roderick moving slowly across the room and casting about him his usual luminous, unshrinking looks.  He presently joined them, nodded familiarly to the Cavaliere, and immediately demanded of Rowland, “Have you seen her?”

“I have seen Miss Light,” said Rowland.  “She ’s magnificent.”

“I ’m half crazy!” cried Roderick; so loud that several persons turned round.

Rowland saw that he was flushed, and laid his hand on his arm.  Roderick was trembling.  “If you will go away,” Rowland said instantly, “I will go with you.”

“Go away?” cried Roderick, almost angrily.  “I intend to dance with her!”

The Cavaliere had been watching him attentively; he gently laid his hand on his other arm.  “Softly, softly, dear young man,” he said.  “Let me speak to you as a friend.”