Michel did not move a muscle to approach them. Although the way in which the princess had _scolded_ his father had touched him and won his heart, he was by no means inclined to humble himself before her. He was well aware that the Italian custom of kissing a lady's hand denotes either the respectful homage of a friend or the prostration of an inferior, and, having no right to claim the former title, he did not choose to descend to the other. He removed his velvet cap and stood erect, affecting to look the princess in the face with perfect self-possession. Thereupon she fixed her eyes upon him, and, whether because her features wore an expression of kindness and cordiality in contrast to the careless good-nature of her manners, or because Michel was assailed by a strange hallucination, he was stirred to the lowest depths of his being by that unexpected glance. It seemed to him that a searching flame, intense and penetrating, entered his very soul from the great lady's soft eyes; that an ineffable affection, coming forth from that unknown heart, had taken possession of his whole being; in short, that the Princess Agatha said to him in language more eloquent than any human words: "Come to my arms, come to my heart!" Michel, bewildered, fascinated, beside himself, shuddered, turned pale, approached with an involuntary, convulsive movement, tremblingly took the princess's hand, and, as he was about to put it to his lips, raised his eyes once more to hers, thinking that he had been mistaken, and that he could in that way put an end to a dream that was at once painful and delicious. But those pure and limpid eyes expressed a love so absolute and so trustful that he lost his head, felt that his senses were leaving him, and fell as if crushed at the signora's feet. When he recovered his presence of mind, the princess was already several steps away. She walked on, followed by Pier-Angelo, and when they were alone at the farther end of the room, they seemed to be discussing some detail of the fête. Michel was ashamed; his emotion rapidly vanished in face of the thought that he had presented to all his companions a spectacle of incredible weakness and presumption; but, as the princess's kind words had electrified them all, and as they had all resumed their labor with a sort of joyful frenzy, they sang and hammered, and bustled about him, and his adventure was a mere incident, lost, or at least not understood, in the crowd. Some had noticed, with a smile, that he bowed lower than he needed to do, and that it was apparently an aristocratic and gallant habit which he had brought from abroad with his haughty air and his fine clothes. Others thought that he had stumbled over a board when he was about to bow, and that his awkwardness had caused his confusion. Magnani alone had watched him closely and half guessed the truth.