At this very time Rome was especially lively; the new Pope was to be chosen in place of the late Clement XIV. In the evening the salons of the Princess were filled with the most celebrated painters, musicians, _littérateurs_, and high clergy. The “Unknown” in the black dress had not been seen for a long time. Once I had met her at the door of the house of Juani. On seeing me, she turned away impatiently, and, did I dream it?--said something in Russian. I just caught a glimpse of golden hair streaked with grey, and the angry flash of splendid grey eyes. The windows of the Princess were often open, and through them were heard the strains of the harp, on which she played artistically. A whole crowd of loiterers and beggars, always expecting her generous gratuities, surrounded the house from morning to night, and we could often hear them noisily applauding the splendid cavalcades of the Princess. I had quite recovered now, and could see for myself the Princess, as before, heedless, gay, now riding a spirited charger, flying like the wind along the squares, in the streets, now driving in an open carriage; always merry, always laughing. Involuntarily I felt glad for her, poor young thing, having, through me, because of her sex, found help and support in her dark days. One thing alone vexed me. Christianok, who had been given to me as an assistant, began to hint at the possible want of candour of the count towards me. Rome began to talk of the lovely Princess, just as Venice had talked, and even--though in the last days so bitter against her--Ragusa. Christianok, somehow or other, learnt that the banker Jenkins had paid her in the name of the count 10,000 ducats. The revived beauty spent the money she received with a lavish hand, never thinking that some day it would come to an end. I was once invited to one of her _soirées_; the Princess seemed a radiant sun among surrounding stars. She played on the harp with such feeling, that I was deeply moved. Of her departure, however, she said nothing. She merely remarked once, _en passant_, “Be easy; it will be all right.” At the end of a few days, on the advice of Christianok, I wrote her a letter, reminding her of the count. The answer was very long in coming. We were lost in conjectures. At last I received a note from her, inviting me to meet her in the Church of Santa Maria dell’ Angela. It was evening. I went silently into the dim church, which was filled with the odour of incense. Here and there flickered a taper before the picture of some saint. A mysterious silence seemed to fill the deserted obscurity of the columns and _prie-dieux_. In the loneliest corner, behind a high _prie-dieu_, with a prayer-book in one hand, stood, wrapped in a very elegant mantilla, a tall slender figure, veiled--I recognised the Princess.