As generally happens at very large balls, the dancing began late, but numbers of persons had come early in order to survey the wonders of the palace at their leisure.  Among those who arrived soon after ten o’clock was Giovanni Saracinesca, who was greeted loudly by all who knew him.  He looked pale and tired, if his tough nature could ever be said to seem weary; but he was in an unusually affable mood, and exchanged words with every one he met.  Indeed he had been sad for so many days that he hardly understood why he felt gay, unless it was in the anticipation of once more seeing the woman he loved.  He wandered through the rooms carelessly enough, but he was in reality devoured by impatience, and his quick eyes sought Corona’s tall figure in every direction.  But she was not yet there, and Giovanni at last came and took his station in one of the outer halls, waiting patiently for her arrival.

While he waited, leaning against one of the marble pillars of the door, the throng increased rapidly; but he hardly noticed the swelling crowd, until suddenly there was a lull in the unceasing talk, and the men and women parted to allow a cardinal to pass out from the inner rooms.  With many gracious nods and winning looks, the great man moved on, his keen eyes embracing every one and everything within the range of his vision, his courteous smile seeming intended for each separate individual, and yet overlooking none, nor resting long on any, his high brow serene and unbent, his flowing robes falling back from his courtly figure, as with his red hat in his hand he bowed his way through the bowing crowd.  His departure, which was quickly followed by that of several other cardinals and prelates, was the signal that the dancing would soon begin; and when he had passed out, the throng of men and women pressed more quickly in through the door on their way to the ball-room.

But as the great cardinal’s eye rested on Giovanni Saracinesca, accompanied by that invariable smile that so many can remember well to this day, his delicate hand made a gesture as though beckoning to the young man to follow him.  Giovanni obeyed the summons, and became for the moment the most notable man in the room.  The two passed out together, and a moment later were standing in the outer hall.  Already the torch-bearers were standing without upon the grand staircase, and the lackeys were mustering in long files to salute the Prime Minister.  Just then the master of the house came running breathless from within.  He had not seen that Cardinal Antonelli was taking his leave, and hastened to overtake him, lest any breach of etiquette on his part should attract the displeasure of the statesman.

“Your Eminence’s pardon!” he exclaimed, hurriedly “I had not seen that your Eminence was leaving us—­so early too—­the Princess feared—­”

“Do not speak of it,” answered the Cardinal, in suave tones.  “I am not so strong as I used to be.  We old fellows must to bed betimes, and leave you young ones to enjoy yourselves.  No excuses—­good night—­a beautiful ball—­I congratulate you on the reopening of your house—­good night again.  I will have a word with Giovanni here before I go down-stairs.”