Chapter 50

CHAPTER L

As the Countess Gemini was not acquainted with the ancient
monuments Isabel occasionally offered to introduce her to these
interesting relics and to give their afternoon drive an
antiquarian aim. The Countess, who professed to think her
sister-in-law a prodigy of learning, never made an objection, and
gazed at masses of Roman brickwork as patiently as if they had
been mounds of modern drapery. She had not the historic sense,
though she had in some directions the anecdotic, and as regards
herself the apologetic, but she was so delighted to be in Rome
that she only desired to float with the current. She would gladly
have passed an hour every day in the damp darkness of the Baths
of Titus if it had been a condition of her remaining at Palazzo
Roccanera. Isabel, however, was not a severe cicerone; she used
to visit the ruins chiefly because they offered an excuse for
talking about other matters than the love affairs of the ladies of
Florence, as to which her companion was never weary of offering
information. It must be added that during these visits the
Countess forbade herself every form of active research; her
preference was to sit in the carriage and exclaim that everything
was most interesting. It was in this manner that she had hitherto
examined the Coliseum, to the infinite regret of her niece, who--
with all the respect that she owed her--could not see why she
should not descend from the vehicle and enter the building. Pansy
had so little chance to ramble that her view of the case was not
wholly disinterested; it may be divined that she had a secret
hope that, once inside, her parents' guest might be induced to
climb to the upper tiers. There came a day when the Countess
announced her willingness to undertake this feat--a mild
afternoon in March when the windy month expressed itself in
occasional puffs of spring. The three ladies went into the
Coliseum together, but Isabel left her companions to wander over
the place. She had often ascended to those desolate ledges from
which the Roman crowd used to bellow applause and where now the
wild flowers (when they are allowed) bloom in the deep crevices;
and to-day she felt weary and disposed to sit in the despoiled
arena. It made an intermission too, for the Countess often asked
more from one's attention than she gave in return; and Isabel
believed that when she was alone with her niece she let the dust
gather for a moment on the ancient scandals of the Arnide. She so
remained below therefore, while Pansy guided her undiscriminating
aunt to the steep brick staircase at the foot of which the
custodian unlocks the tall wooden gate. The great enclosure was
half in shadow; the western sun brought out the pale red tone of
the