Astrid's choking became violent. Her room was next to that of the young men, and they had made such a noise that at last she had knocked on the partition asking them to be quiet. They had answered, begging her pardon, explaining that they had been trying to wake the old lady whose sonorous snoring made it impossible to sleep. And in fact, the snoring had been a running accompaniment to the various thumps and bangs, and had continued on, triumphant and undiminished. "You had better go to your room, Astrid," said her mother. She had heard the story, and in her kindness of heart was afraid of hurting the old lady's feelings. Ragna rose also, glad of an excuse to go. "Oh," gasped Astrid, as they left the room, "that old woman will kill me yet. 'So inconsiderate of them!'" she mocked. "Hush," said Ragna, laughing, "she will hear you!" "I don't care if she does!" said Astrid, "horrid old mole! She told me I looked consumptive, and that my colour was a hectic flush. If she can see that much she ought to be able to help herself at table!" Ragna went to her room and sat down on her bed. She felt all in a whirl. The Prince in Rome! And he wished her to be his friend! She was uneasily conscious that she should have spoken of the meeting to Fru Bjork--but the Prince did not wish it. "I suppose on account of his being incognito," she told herself--but reason told her that his official presence would have rendered any intercourse impossible. "It's like a fairy-tale come true, to have seen him again," she thought, "but I will not meet him to-morrow. Of course there would be no harm if I did. I am old enough to take care of myself,--but I shall not, it would be better not." She was still going over in her mind the conversation of the morning, when Astrid and Fru Bjork entered, ready for the drive. Ragna started guiltily and Astrid pointed a derisive finger: "Behold the punctual Ragna! Who's late this time, Miss?" "I'll be ready in a second," said Ragna flying about the room, while Fru Bjork subsided to a chair, settling her bonnet strings under her double chin. "There, there!" she said in her comfortable way, "don't hurry so, there's no harm done!" "Now I'm ready!" cried Ragna. "Why, my child," exclaimed Fru Bjork, "you have one grey glove and one tan one, and you have put your green coat over your blue frock!" Astrid giggled, "The air of Rome must have gone to your head!" Ragna, much confused, rectified her mistakes, and the party set out. They drove to the Doria Pamphilj gardens and afterwards to the Janiculum. Fru Bjork stopped the carriage and they got out and walked. Ragna loved the view from that point better than any other she had seen; the huge mass of St. Peter's, towering like a Titan above the city dwarfing all else by the symmetrical immensity of the dome, fascinated and held her. It dominated humanity, she thought even as it dominated Rome,--the Mother Church, Mistress of the World, rising triumphant on the ruins of the past.