His wife so gloried in him that she dragged him about and displayed him everywhere, having begun life afresh with him as if she were still but twenty, spending on him the little fortune which she had saved from the Villa Montefiori disaster, and so completely forgetting her son that she only saw the latter now and again at the promenade and acknowledged his bow like that of some chance acquaintance.
"Let us go to see the sun set behind St.Peter's," all at once said Dario, conscientiously playing his part as a showman of curiosities.
The victoria thereupon returned to the terrace, where a military band was now playing with a terrific blare of brass instruments.

In order that their occupants might hear the music, a large number of carriages had already drawn up, and a growing crowd of loungers on foot had assembled there.

And from that beautiful terrace, so broad and lofty, one of the most wonderful views of Rome was offered to the gaze.

Beyond the Tiber, beyond the pale chaos of the new district of the castle meadows,* and between the greenery of Monte Mario and the Janiculum arose St.Peter's.
Then on the left came all the olden city, an endless stretch of roofs, a rolling sea of edifices as far as the eye could reach.

But one's glances always came back to St.Peter's, towering into the azure with pure and sovereign grandeur.