"And so here is our Regina!" said the Master, buttoning his coat across his narrow chest. "Oh, _bravissima_! I got the postcard with the picture of the Colosseum. That really is a monument! Oh, _brava_, our Regina! I suppose you have visited all the monuments, both pagan and Christian? And seen the works of Michaelangelo Buonarotti? Oh, Rome! Rome! Yes, I wish my two children could get to the eternal Rome." "Papa!" said Gabrie, watching Regina to see if she were laughing at him. But Regina was merely cold and indifferent--an attitude which relieved but slightly intimidated the future lady-professor. A little later came a young lady of a titled family from Sabbioneta. She had a lovely slender figure, and was very pale, with black hair dressed _à la_ Botticelli; she was smart also, wearing white gloves and tan shoes with very high heels. Toscana, Gabrie and this young lady were all the same age--about eighteen--clever and unripe, like all school-girls. They were nominally friends. Regina, however, saw they envied and nearly hated each other. The aristocratic damsel gave herself airs, and spoke impertinences with much grace. "Good gracious! What heels!" said Gabrie, whom nothing escaped. "But they're quite out of fashion!" "They're always in fashion among the nobility," explained the other, condescendingly. Then they talked of a little scandal which had arisen the day before, in consequence of two Sabbioneta ladies having quarrelled in the street. "Wives of clerks!" said the Signorina, contemptuously. "Women of the upper aristocracy would never behave like that!" "But," said Regina, "where have you known any women of the upper aristocracy?" "Oh! one meets them everywhere!" "Look here, my dear; if you were to find yourself beside a lady of the upper aristocracy, and if she deigned to look at you at all, you would be frozen with humiliation and alarm." The other girls giggled, and the Master asked eagerly-- "Regina, I wonder do you know the Duchess Colonna of San Pietro?" "_Chi lo sa?_ There are no end of duchesses in Rome!" "We have an introduction to that great lady from a friend of ours at Parma." "Papa!" cried Gabrie, red with indignation and pride, "I don't require any introductions! I snap my fingers at great ladies one and all! What could they possibly do for me?" "My dear child," began Regina, pitying and sarcastic, "great ladies rule the world; and so----" She stopped and turned pale, for there was a loud knock at the door. She fancied it the bicycling postman, who brought telegrams to the villages between Casalmaggiore and Viadana. But no; it was not he. Evening fell--red and splendid as a conflagration. The three girls went out, and Regina lingered at the window, scrutinising the distance and looking for the telegraph messenger's bicycle.