I inquire of you in Rome--no one know about hummingbirds--I am in despair. Then the saints are kind. I see you on your terrace. I wait at your door. I send you a letter by your maid. You not reply and you not look at me when you pass by me in the street. I follow. But you vanish again into the door of that dark palazzo. I ask the concierge your name--he will not tell. Outside I wait, and the saints they are still kind. Down from Heaven falls the rose! Next day I see the Secretaire Americain, my old friend as I remember at once. We meet on the street outside the palazzo--he say he goes in there to make call on lovely American young lady. I take him by the arm, I beg, I implore him to introduce me,--ah, I am so desperate! Perhaps he have pity on one who suffer so much. He take me in and--I have to talk to your Aunt. He speak all the time to you, and I have to see you together and talk only to the Aunt. Are you willing I should come again, Cleopatra girl? Post Scriptum. I come again anyway! * * * * * JOURNAL CONTINUED _Rome, February._ The dashing Italian officer, Captain Carlo, with the piercing eyes and the Roman nose, gave a dinner last night at the Grand Hotel. He’s not exactly goodlooking but very attractive--almost as fascinating as the Prince whose letters certainly do amuse me. Later the carriage was to come to take me to the Duchess Sermoneta’s dance. Well! I made my adieux and started to leave the hotel. But alas, my carriage was not there, and I was quite disturbed when up came the American Secretary and offered to take me in his brougham. I was very glad to accept. Do you know I think I am going to like him! He is dark and slender, clean-shaven and romantic-looking, and has very distinguished manners. We got to joking and he remarked he was love-proof. I wasn’t going to be behind in a matter like that, so I replied promptly that I was, too. “We can be awfully good friends, then, you and I,” he said; “it’s perfectly safe.” I decided then and there that I would just see how safe it was, for him, at least. I call him A. D. for American Diplomat, he’s so very promising a young secretary. At the ball there were princesses, duchesses, and all that. I met a lot of them but saw more of Captain Carlo and A. D. than anyone else. I stayed until about two o’clock, and then came the question as to how I was to get home without any carriage, but my diplomat again came to the rescue. Prince Boris was not there. Aunt says hereafter I am to take Louisa with me. * * * * *