A remark that a foreigner in New York had made to Nina came back to her, and she now realized its truth.  It was that the one great difference between the women of Europe and those of America was that in Europe one noticed the women, while in America too often one noticed merely the clothes.  The Roman ladies wore plain princesse dresses, the majority of velvet or brocade, and with little or no trimming save enormous jewels often clumsily set, but barbarically magnificent.

Here and there, to Nina’s intense interest, she found, strangely mingled with the others, people of the provinces, who, because of distinguished names, had the right to appear at court, yet who looked as though they were wearing evening dress for the first time in their lives.  Near by, for instance, was a lady whose rotund person was buttoned into a tight-fitting red velvet basque of ancient cut, above a skirt of pink satin.  A court train, evidently constructed out of curtain material, was suspended from her shoulders.  Broad gold bracelets clasped her plump wrists at the point where her gloves terminated, and a high comb of Etruscan gold ornamented the hard knob into which her hair was screwed.

Princess Vessano represented the other extreme—­that of fashion.  She was in an Empire “creation” of green liberty satin with an over-tunic of silver-embroidered gauze.  Her hair was arranged in a fillet of diamonds, which joined a small banded coronet, also of diamonds, set with three enormous emeralds.  Around her throat she had a narrow band of green velvet bordered with diamonds and with a pendant emerald in the center that matched pear-shaped earrings nearly an inch long.  Yet in a crowd of three thousand persons neither the grotesque lady nor the princess was remarkable.

The crush of people became greater and greater until it seemed impossible to admit another person without filling the center of the ballroom and the royal space.  As there was no music, the chatter of voices made an insistent humming din.  At last! the Prefetto di Palazzo sounded three loud strokes, with the ferule of his mace, upon the floor, the sound of voices ceased, the doors into the royal apartments were thrown open, the band struck up the royal march, and their Majesties entered, followed by the members of their suite.  Every one made a deep reverence, and the Queen seated herself upon the gold chair.  The King stood at her left.  As soon as the Queen had taken her place, the dancing commenced, led by the Prefetto di Palazzo and the French ambassadress.  But as a wide space before the Queen’s chair was reserved out of deference to their Majesties, the rest of the ballroom was so crowded that dancing was next to impossible.  Presently the King made a tour of the room—­followed always by two gentlemen of his suite, with whom he stopped continually to ask who this person or that might be, sometimes speaking to special guests.