"Does going to a church always make you so caustic, cara mia?" said the Marchesa Nina.
Della Rocca was very silent. The French artist kept up the ball of talk with her and the lovely Marchesa, and played the gay game well. The sun sank quite; the brief twilight came; then darkness; the horses took them down through the walled lanes and the rose hedges into the narrow streets, where here and there the lamps were twinkling, and the glow of the wood fires shone through the grated casements.
The carriage paused first at the Hôtel Murat.
"I shall see you to-night at Princess Fürstenberg's, Hilda, of course?" said the Marchesa.
"Oh, yes," said the Lady Hilda as she descended, drawing her sables closer around her. "You will be there, I suppose?" she added, with a little change of her voice, to Della Rocca, as he held his arm for her to alight. He looked straight down into her eyes.
"I think not," he said, simply. "Good night, Madame."
He stood with his head uncovered, whilst she went up the steps of the hotel; then, as the door
