"I don't quite understand. Think that again.--Oh, well I shouldn't mind if he was. I love bad boys. Of course we don't want a cowardly, mean-spirited, stingy, cold-blooded, deceitful kind of badness." Here, after another pause, she laughed. "Yes, I suppose that is just what I do mean--a bad boy who is good." Another silence, and another laugh. "No, never!" "But tell me, Defender of Women, why do you wish for a girl? Because what? She might be a perfect copy of myself? Oh, honey-mouthed humbug!" She rose, stooped over, kissed him, and sat down again. "Well, I shall be happy, very happy, whatever the Bon Dieu gives us." The next silence was longer. "Yes, that is all very true. Heredity counts. There's no doubt of that. Half Italian, half American--there are worse combinations. But I am doubtful about the American half." Here she frowned and slowly shook her head. "I have a torturing suspicion that all Americans--with one heavenly exception--are ignoble things." The blond hero smiled and closed his eyes. "Not an opera singer in the whole country," she went on. "No music, no art, no Roman ruins; just a race of handsome, reckless, blood-thirsty young doctors. And the whole miserable wilderness, the whole continent itself, was discovered by an Italian! Think of that! Think of how much we owe Columbus, you and I! Were it not for him we should never have met--for you would not exist. You owe everything to Italy. Still, we love each other just as much. That is the important thing. Nothing else really matters." But she frowned and shook a finger. "Nevertheless, if it's a boy I shall name him Columbus Michael Angelo Dante Victor Emanuel Alton, just to hide the dishonor of his father's nationality." The invalid clasped the finger, and held it. For a moment two pairs of eyes looked deep into each other. Then the Diva laughed. "What ideas you have! The Good God gave you a sunny heart, my beloved. And you know--Oh, you know well--that whatever----" At the sound of a distant door bell she stopped abruptly. Into her face came a look of mild alarm. Both knew that no visitor was welcome. Who could enter this bower unless shadowed by the Breath of Scandal? The next moment, however, her face brightened. "Oh--of course! It's the good Dr. Cervini. I had forgotten he was to come early to-day." The man who entered kissed the tips of the Diva's fingers. Then he shook hands with the American.