And through all the torturing whirl of these memories, above the clatter of the horses' hoofs and the rattle of the wheels over the wretched pavement, she heard the cry "miserere mei." But her thoughts turned no more to the God sacrificed for Man--the strongest angels' wings cannot bear us quite to heaven so long as our heart dwells on earth.
"Good-night," she said, kissing Gabrielle as the carriage drew up at the door of the palazetto.
"Will you let me have Nini's scarf for Gabrielle?" said Truyn. "I am afraid my little companion may catch cold."
"Oh! of course," cried Zinka, and she wrapped the child carefully in the shawl and kissed her again; "when shall I learn to think of anyone but myself?" she added vexed with herself.
Easter-Monday. All the bells in the churches of Rome are once more wagging their brazen tongues after their week of dumb mourning, and images of the Resurrection in every conceivable form--sugar, wax, soap--decorate all the shop windows.
Baroness Wolnitzka had returned fresher, gayer and more enterprising than ever from her visit to Naples, where she not only had had herself photographed in a lyric attitude leaning on a pillar in the ruins of Pompeii, but, in spite of her huge size which was very much against her taking such excursions, she had with the help of two guides and a remarkably vigorous mule, reached the top of Vesuvius. Thanks, too, to a cardinal's nephew with whom she had scraped acquaintance on her journey, with a view to making him useful, she had succeeded in obtaining--not indeed a private audience of the pope--but leave to attend a private mass--and receive the communion, in company with three hundred other orthodox souls, from his sacred hand.
This morning she had been to the palazetto to take leave of her sister--to ask once more after Sempaly--to give a full and particular account of the service at the Vatican--and to deliver a discourse on the philosophical value of the mass. Slawa, whose orthodoxy had been fanned to bigotry, and who on Easter eve had duly climbed the santa scala on her knees, had supplemented her mother's narrative with a variety of interesting details:
"It was most exclusive, quite our own set, and few families of the Polish colony--I wore my black satin dress beaded with jet and I heard a gentleman behind me say: 'That is the only woman whose veil is put on with any taste.'"
Sterzl had kept out of the way during their visit; Zinka had smiled amiably but had not attended: Baroness Clotilde had plied her sister with questions. Then the Wolnitzkas had left to go to the consecration of a bishop--also by invitation from the cardinal's nephew--the ladies were to be admitted to the sacristy and be presented with flowers and refreshments.