Lothrop Audouin and Hiram Winthrop were strolling arm in arm together down the Corso.

Audouin had just arrived from Paris, having crossed from America only a week earlier.

Four years had made some difference in his personal appearance; his beard and hair were getting decidedly grizzled, and for the first time in his life Hiram noticed that his friend seemed to have aged a great deal faster and more suddenly than he himself had. But Audouin\'s carriage was still erect and very elastic; there was plenty of life and youth about him yet, plenty even of juvenile fire and originality.

\'It\'s very disappointing certainly, Hiram,\' he said, as they turned into the great thoroughfare of the city together, \'this delay in getting your talents recognised: but I have faith in you still; and to faith, you know, as the Hebrew preacher said, all things are possible. The great tardigrade world is hard to move; you need the pou sto of a sensation to get in the thin edge of your Archimedean lever. But the recognition will come, as sure as the next eclipse; meanwhile, my dear fellow, you must go on working in faith, and I surmise that in the end you will move mountains. If not Soracte just at once, my friend, well at any rate to begin upon the Monte Testaccio.\'

Hiram smiled half sadly. \'But I haven\'t faith, you know, Mr. Audouin,\' he answered, in as easy a tone as he could well muster. \'I begin to regard myself in the dismal light of a portentous failure. Like Peter, I feel myself sinking in the water, and have no one to take me by the hand and lift me out of it.\'

Audouin answered only by an airy wave of his five delicate outspread fingers. \'And Miss Russell?\' he asked after half a second\'s pause. \'Has she come to Rome yet? You know she said she would be here this winter.\'

As he spoke, he looked deep into Hiram\'s eyes with so much meaning that Hiram felt his face grow hot, and thought to himself, \'What a wonderful man Mr. Audouin is, really! In spite of all my silence and reserve he has somehow managed to read my innermost secret. How could he ever have known that Miss Russell\'s was the hand I needed to lift me out of the Sea of Gennesaret!\'

But how self-contained and self-centred even the best of us are at bottom! for Audouin only meant to change the subject, and the deep look in his eyes when he spoke about Gwen to Hiram had reference entirely to his own heart and not to his companion\'s.

\'I haven\'t seen or heard anything of her yet,\' Hiram answered shyly, \'but the season has hardly begun so far, and I calculate we may very probably find her at Rome in the course of the next fortnight.\'

\'How he looks down and hesitates!\' Audouin thought to himself in turn as Hiram answered him. \'How on earth can he have succeeded in discovering and recognising my unspoken secret?\'

So we walk this world together, cheek by jowl, yet all at cross purposes, each one thinking mainly of himself, and at the same time illogically fancying that his neighbour is not all equally engrossed on his own similarly important personality. We imagine he is always thinking about us, but he is really doing quite otherwise—thinking about himself exactly as we are.

They walked on a few steps further in silence, each engaged in musing on his own thoughts, and then suddenly a voice came from a jeweller\'s shop by the corner, \'Oh, papa, just look! Mr. Audouin and his friend the painter.\'

As Gwen Howard-Russell uttered those simple words, two hearts went beating suddenly faster on the pavement outside, each after its own fashion. Audouin heard chiefly his own name, and thought to himself gladly, \'Then she has not forgotten me.\' Hiram heard chiefly the end of the sentence, and thought to himself bitterly, \'And shall I never be more to her then than merely that—“his friend the painter”?\'

\'Delighted to see you, Mr. Audouin,\' the colonel said stiffly, in a voice which at once belied its own spoken welcome. \'And you too, Mr.—ur—Mr. ————\'

\'Winthrop, papa,\' Gwen suggested blandly; and Hiram was grateful to her even for remembering it.

\'Winthrop, of course,\' the colonel accepted with a decorous smile, as who should gracefully concede that Hiram had no doubt a sort of right in his own small way to some kind of cognomen or other. \'And are you still painting, Mr. Winthrop?\'

\'I am,\' Hiram answered shortly. [The subject was one that did not interest him.] \'And you, Miss Russell? Have you come here to spend the winter?\'

\'Oh yes,\' Gwen replied, addressing herself, however, rather to Audouin than to Hiram. \'You see we haven\'t forgotten our promise. But we\'re not stopping at the hotel this time, we\'re at the Villa Panormi—just outside the town, you know, on the road to the Ponte Molle.

A cousin of ours, a dear stupid old fellow——\'

\'Gwen, my dear! now really you know—the Earl of Beaminster, Mr. Audouin.\'

\'Yes, that\'s his name; Lord Beaminster, and a dear old stupid as ever was born, too, I can tell you. Well, he\'s taken the Villa Panormi for the season; it belongs to some poor wretched creature of a Roman prince, I believe (his grandfather was lackey to a cardinal), who\'s in want of money dreadfully, and he lets it to my cousin to go and gamble away the proceeds at Monte Carlo. It\'s just outside the Porta del Popolo, about a mile off; and the gardens are really quite delightful. You must both of you come there very often to see us.\'

\'But really, Gwen, we must ask Beaminster first, you know, before we begin introducing our friends to him,\' the colonel interjected apologetically, casting down a furtive and uneasy glance at Hiram\'s costume, which certainly displayed a most admired artistic disorder. \'We ought to send him to call first at Mr.—ur—Winthrop\'s studio.\'

\'Of course,\' Gwen answered. \'And so he shall go this very afternoon, if I tell him to. The dear old stupid always does whatever I order him.\'

\'If we continue to take up the pavement in this way,\' Audouin put in gravely, \'we shall get taken up ourselves by the active and intelligent police officers of a redeemed Italy. Which way are you going now, Miss Russell? towards the Piazza? Then we\'ll go with you if you will allow us.—Hiram, my dear fellow, if you\'ll permit me to suggest it, it\'s very awkward walking four abreast on these narrow Roman side-walks—pavements, I mean; forgive the Americanism, Miss Russell. Yes, that\'s better so. And when did you and the colonel come to Rome. Now tell me?\'

In a moment, much to Hiram\'s chagrin, and the colonel\'s too, Audouin had managed to lead the way, tête-à-tête with Gwen, shuffling off the two others to follow behind, and get along as best they might in the background together. Now the colonel was not a distinguished conversationalist, and Hiram was hardly in a humour for talking, so after they had interchanged a few harmless conventionalities and a mild platitude or two about the weather, they both relapsed into moody silence, and occupied themselves by catching a scrap every now and then of what Gwen and Audouin were saying in front of them.

\'And that very clever Mr. Churchill, too, Mr. Audouin! I hear he\'s getting on quite wonderfully. Lord Beaminster bought one of his groups, you know, and brought him into fashion—partly by my pushing, I must confess, to be quite candid—and now, I\'m told, he\'s commanding almost any price he chooses to ask in the way of sculpture. We haven\'t seen him yet, of course, but I mean papa and my cousin to look him up in his own quarters at the very earliest opportunity.\'

\'Oh, a clever enough young artist, certainly, but not really, Miss Russell, half so genuine an artist in feeling as my friend Win-throp.\'

Hiram could have fallen on his neck that moment for that half-unconscious piece of kindly recommendation.

A few steps further they reached the corner of the Via de\' Condotti, and Gwen paused for a second as she looked across the street, with a little sudden cry of recognition. A handsome young man was coming round the corner from the Piazza di Spagna, with a gipsy-looking girl leaning lightly on his arm, and talking to him wit............