"It is a gallant town," the Pope remarked; "I have been there myself." Having finished speaking with the men (all the ladies stood together on one side of the room and the men on the other), the Pope went to the end of the gallery. We all noticed that he seemed much agitated, and wondered why, and what could have happened to ruffle his benign face. It soon became known that there was an Englishman present who refused to kneel, although ordered to do so by the irate chamberlain, and who stood stolidly with arms folded, looking down with a sneer upon his better-behaved companions. His Holiness made a rather lengthy discourse, and did not conceal his displeasure, alluding very pointedly to the unpardonable attitude of the stranger. On leaving the gallery he turned around a last time, made the sign of the cross, giving us his blessing, and left us very much impressed. I looked about for my companion, but could not see her anywhere. Had she forgotten me and left me there to my fate? It would not be unlike her to do so. I saw myself, in my mind's eye, being led out of the Vatican by the striped yellow and black legs and halberded guards, and obliged to find my way home alone; but on peering about in all the corners I caught sight of her seated on a bench fervently saying her prayers, evidently under the impression that she was in church during mass. As we were about to enter the coupé she hesitated before giving any orders to the servant, possibly not remembering where I had lived. But the footman, being accustomed to her vagaries, did not wait, and as he knew where to deposit me, I was landed safely at the Palazzo Altieri. _February 15th._ The Storys gave "The Merchant of Venice" the other evening. They had put up in one of the salons a very pretty little stage; the fashionable world was _au complet_, and, after having made our bows to Mrs. Story, we took our places in the theater. Mr. Story was Shylock, and acted extremely well. Edith was very good as Portia. Waldo and Julian both took part. Mr. and Mrs. Prank Lascelles, of the English Embassy, both dressed in black velvet, played the married couple to the life, but did not look at all Italian. The whole performance was really wonderfully well done and most successful; the enthusiasm was sincere and warmed the cold hands by the frequent clapping. We were so glad to be enthusiastic! Mr. Story gave me his book called _Roba di Roma_, which I will tell you does _not_ mean Italian robes--you might think so; it means things about Rome. I will also tell you, in case that your Italian does not go so far, that when I say that the Storys live in the third _piano_. I do not mean an upright or a grand--_piano_ is the Italian for story.