I look at you now, not through the yellow glass used by a jealous husband in scrutinising his wife, but through the rose-coloured glass that a fond father holds before his eyes in regarding a beloved daughter.

If you travelled in a stranger's company on your journey to Rome, that may very well have been a mere matter of chance.

If you left the accustomed route under his escort, you may have done so to avoid suspected dangers.

If you are seen again in Rome at this stranger's side, I see nothing in that but his recognition of his duty toward you,--the courtesy of a fellow countryman acquainted with Rome toward a lady visiting that city for the first time.

And if you walked together arm in arm, it was undoubtedly because of the pressure of the crowd, which always justifies a lady in seeking the protection of the first man available." This speech filled Blanka with indignation and dismay.