“Dear Aunt Caroline,” she said.  “Uncle Erasmus understands quite, and has given us his blessing, so won’t you, too?”

But Mrs. Ebley was made of sterner stuff—­she was horribly shocked, her feelings had been bruised in their tenderest parts, the laws of convention had been ruthlessly broken by her niece, and forgiveness was not for her.

She drew herself up with disgusted hauteur, while the Rev. Mr. Medlicott stood there glaring at the party too speechless with humiliation and pain to utter a word.

“Erasmus,” Mrs. Ebley said with scathing contempt.  “I do not know how you have let yourself countenance this disgraceful scene, but I shall not do so.  And if my niece still persists in bringing shame upon us all I must beg you to conduct me back to our hotel—­ I wash my hands of her and shall no longer own her as my sister’s child, come”

At this, Stella gave a pitiful little cry and turned tender, beseeching eyes to her lover, and the sound of her voice touched that chord which was fine in Eustace Medlicott’s heart.  He seemed suddenly to see things as they were, and to realize that love had indeed come to his betrothed, though not for him, so he rose above the pain this conviction caused him and let justice have sway.

He strode forward and joined the group.

“You must not say that, Mrs. Ebley,” he said, “since your husband seems satisfied, there must have been some proper explanation made.  You should hear them first.  But I, for my part, wish to state now, in the presence of everyone, that if Miss Rawson can assure me she has made this choice of her own free will, and because she loves this gentleman—­” here there was a break in the tones—­“I can have nothing further to say and will give her back her freedom and make my retreat.”

“Oh, Eustace, thank you,” said Stella, gratefully holding out her hand.  “I knew I could eventually count upon your goodness.  I do indeed love Count Roumovski, and why should not we all be happy together?  You will feel with me, I am sure, that our engagement was always a mistake and now won’t you be friends?”

She still held out her timid hand, and Mr. Medlicott took it at last and wringing it silently turned and drew toward the door, making his exit.

Silence fell upon the company until he had gone and then Count Roumovski whispered in his harassed little fiancee’s ear: 

“Never mind his point of view, darling—­yonder goes an English gentleman, and since I have gained my star and he has lost his, he has my deepest sympathy.”

Then everyone seemed to talk at once, and the Princess Urazov at last appeared to be in some degree appeasing Mrs. Ebley.

There is very little more to tell of this comedy of a spring holiday in Rome.  It ended with a quiet wedding and two young people going off together in the blue automobile.

And when Count Roumovski clasped his newly made bride in his arms, he whispered with a tenderly sly smile: