“And who, then, is this divinely-gifted artist, this consecrated daughter of the muses?” wonderingly asked the cardinal.

Carlo indicated Natalie, and bowed to the ground before her.

“Princess Tartaroff?” asked the cardinal, with astonishment.

“That she is a princess, I know not,” said Carlo, “but I am quite certain she is a poetess!”

What was it that at this moment stirred the soul of the young maiden?  She now felt a pride, a blessed joy, and yet she had previously felt so sad at Corilla’s triumph!  It seemed as if enthusiasm raised its wings in her, as if the word, the right word, pressed to her lips, as if she must utter in song her rejoicings and lamentings for her simultaneously felt pleasures and pains!  A pure and genuine child of Nature, she felt herself the natural impulse to pour out in words, tones, and even in tears, what agitated her soul, and to which she was unable to give a name.

Cardinal Bernis had first turned imploringly to Count Paulo, praying for his permission to invite the young princess to surprise and delight the company with some of her improvisations.  Others, overhearing this, mingled in the conversation, and added their requests to those of the cardinal; and, the feeling becoming general, the requests for an improvisation became universal and pressing; people, momentarily forgetting the great and celebrated improvisatrice Corilla, with a feverish curiosity turned to the new and unknown star.  Corilla stood almost alone—­only Cardinal Albani remaining by her side; but his tender words were not competent to appease the violent storm of jealousy that raged in her soul.

The solicitations of the curious Romans became constantly more urgent, and Count Paulo, unable longer to resist them, finally consented to leave the decision to his ward, the young princess herself.

And Natalie?  She was so real and ingenuous a child of Nature that she felt no timidity in the presence of this crowd; she was so full of faith and confidence, so full of trust and human love.  She thought:  “Why should I not give a little pleasure to these good people who approach me with such warm sympathies?  And why should I tremble before them?  Did not Paulo tell me that I should feel as if I were in my garden, and it was only my trees and flowers that were looking at me with human faces?  Well, then, I will so think and feel, and speak only to my dear trees and flowers!”

Beckoning Carlo with a charming smile, guided by his hand, she hastily ascended the steps.  And as they saw her there upon the stage, this delicate, lovely maiden—­as they looked upon her spiritual maiden beauty, with the childlike expression of her noble features, with eyes that beamed with pleasure and inspiration—­there arose such a storm of applause that Natalie slightly trembled, and with a sweet smile she said to Carlo:  “The people here are much more boisterous than the zephyrs in our garden, but they are not so melodious, and it almost saddens the heart!”