"Listen," he said, "it's just that you're a bit homesick. You'll find that in a little time you'll get used to it all. I admit our life is rather cramped, but do you suppose the rich people are happy?" "It's not riches I want!" "What is it then? _I_'m not vulgar, am I? or stupid? After all, it's with _me_ you've got to live. Be reasonable. You shall make your own surroundings just as you like them. Meantime, to cure you of your homesickness you can go home to your own country whenever you like." The soothing mixture produced the desired effect. Regina raised a radiant face. "In the spring?" she cried impetuously, "in the spring?" "Whenever you wish. And you'll see that in course of time----" * * * * * But the course of time only augmented Regina's trouble. The night of San Stefano Antonio took her to the Costanzi Theatre, to the _Sedie_.[3] She put on her smartest frock, her best trinkets, and went to the theatre, resolved to be astonished at nothing, for had she not already been to the theatre at Parma? The Costanzi was magnificent; an enormous casket where the most beautiful pearls in the capital shone on feminine shoulders resplendent with "_Crema Venus_." Even the pit was splendid, a field of great flowers sprinkled with the dew of gems and gold. And in spite of her experience at the Parma theatre, Regina felt sufficiently bewildered. Her short-sighted eyes, dazzled by the brilliant light, were half shut; and it was much the same with the eyes of her soul. She raised her opera glass and looked at one of the boxes. The lady there was plain in feature, but extremely fashionable; Regina thought her painted, decked with false hair, her eyes artificially darkened. None the less, she envied her. [3] The cheapest reserved seats. She looked round. Little by little her envy swelled, overflowed, became hateful. She would have liked the theatre burned down. Then she perceived that a lady near her was looking at the boxes just as she was, perhaps with the same criminal envy in her heart. She felt ashamed of herself, put down the glass, and after this did not look at the seats above her again. But on her own level, in the furthest row of the _Poltrone_,[4] she saw a long row of smartly dressed men and women who always and only stared at the boxes. No one looked at the _Sedie_. The people there were an inferior race, or actually non-existent for the ladies and gentlemen in the _Poltrone_. [4] Seats next above the _Sedie_. "We are nothing! We are the microbes which fill the void," thought Regina. Then she perceived another strange fact, that she herself felt for the _Sedie_ and the gallery the very same contempt which was felt by the people of the boxes and the stalls. Antonio thought she was enjoying the music and the spectacle as he was himself; now and then he touched her hand and made some pleasant remark. "You look a real queen with that necklace!" he said, for instance.