“Well, I declare if it isn’t little Nina Randolph!” And then with exuberant good humor she called to her husband, who followed lamb-like in her wake, “You see, Gio, it is the little Randolph—­I told you so!

“This is my husband.”  She presented him as though he were some inanimate personal possession.  “We have been in Paris and Monte Carlo all winter.  Got back yesterday.  Nice old place, Rome, don’t you think so?  I dote on it, but of course it gets provincial if you stay too long!” At the same moment she caught sight of Zoya Olisco, and waved to her.  To Nina’s surprise, the young Russian came forward with both hands outstretched.  “Ah, you are back?  What was the news in Monte Carlo?”

“Nothing much.  They still talk of the coup that Tornik——­” But before Nina could hear the end of the sentence, the old Princess Malio handed her a five-lire note for tea, and Nina had to get change.  Then the whole family of the Rosenbaums, eight in number, demanded her services for many cups of tea and as many plates of sandwiches and cakes, and when their change was counted, the Countess Kate and her attendant husband were leaving.  The countess, however, called back over her shoulder, “You are dining with me on Friday; the princess said yes for you!”

And so it was that on the evening of the hunt Nina, alone with her uncle—­her aunt having stayed at home on account of a headache—­found herself entering a big new apartment house, and going up in an elevator, quite as though she were at home in one of the most modern, instead of one of the most ancient, cities in the world.

The Masco apartment was all brand-new—­so new that there was still about it an odor of fresh paint and plaster, and the pungency of raw textiles.  The Countess Kate, not to be outdone by her decorator, was as new as her surroundings—­in the latest style of sheath dress, of a brilliant blue, which she wore triumphantly, regardless of the strain with which it stretched across the amplitude of her bosom.

The company consisted of the Oliscos, Count Tornik, Prince Minotti, Count Rosso, Prince Allegro, Eliot Porter, and John Derby.  It gave Nina a sudden feeling of satisfaction to see how attractive John was by comparison with the others.  He had a quiet reserve and a forcefulness that Nina thought very effective in this foreign surrounding, and she was ashamed of herself for having judged him by the shallow standard of mere social grace.

The Countess Masco’s parties were renowned for their gayety.  She was one of those hostesses whose vivacity never relaxes, and whose ready answers pass for sparkling wit.  According to her own standard, a party was a success or a failure as it was noisy or quiet.  Consequently she talked and laughed continuously.  Startling colors were her particular weakness, and by the scent of extract of tuberose she could be traced for days.

Nina sat between Eliot Porter and the young Prince Allegro; but her attention wandered across the table to John Derby so constantly that the Prince Allegro remarked, “You seem to be entranced by that American!”