|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 49
I saw at once that the Count was annoyed. He was standing in the middle
of the salon, fingering his sword-hilt in a manner which expressed the
most absurd irritation. So I said immediately that I was awfully sorry,
but it seemed so difficult to get anything to eat in Rome at that time
of year, that the head-waiter was really responsible, and wouldn't he
sit down?
"I don't know what you will think of us," I went on as we shook hands.
"How long have you been kind enough to wait, anyway?"
"Since a quarter of an hour--only," replied the Count, with a difficult
smile, "but now that I see you it is forgotten all."
"That's very nice of you," I said. "I assure you momma was quite worked
up about keeping you waiting. It's rather trying to the American
temperament to be obliged to order a hurried luncheon from the
market-gardener."
"So! In America you have him not--the market garden? You are each his
own vegetable. Yes? Ah, how much better than the poor Italian! But
Mistra and Madame Wick, they have not, I hope, the indisposition?"
"Well, I'm afraid they have, Count--something like that. They said I was
to ask you to excuse them. You see they've been sight-seeing the whole
morning, and that's something that can't be done by halves in your city.
The stranger has to put his whole soul into it, hasn't he?"
"Ah, the whole soul! It is too fatiguing," Count Filgiatti assented. He
glanced at me uncertainly, and rose. "Kindly may I ask that you give my
deepest afflictions to Mistra and Madame Wick for their health?"
"Oh," I said, "if you _must_! But I'm here, you know." I put no hauteur
into my tone, because I saw that it was a misunderstanding.
He still hesitated and I remembered that the Filgiatti intelligence
probably dated from the Middle Ages, and had undergone very little
alteration since. "You have made such a short visit," I said. "I must be
a very bad substitute for momma and poppa."
A flash of comprehension illuminated my visitor's countenance. "I pray
that you do not think such a wrong thing," he said impulsively. "If it
is permitted, I again sit down."
"Do," said I, and he did. Anything else would have seemed perfectly
unreasonable, and yet for the moment he twisted his moustache,
apparently in the most foolish embarrassment. To put him at his ease, I
told him how lovely I thought the fountains. "That's one of your most
ideal connections with ancient history, don't you think?" I said. "The
fact that those old aqueducts of yours have been bringing down the water
to sparkle and ripple in Roman streets ever since."
"Idealissimo! And the Trevi of Bernini--I hope you threw the soldi, so
that you must come back to Rome!"
"We weren't quite sure which it was," I responded, "so poppa threw soldi
into all of them, to make certain. Sometimes he had to make two or three
shots," and I could not help smiling at the recollection.
"Ah, the profusion!"
"I don't suppose they came to a quarter of a dollar, Count. It is the
cheapest of your amusements."
The Count reflected for a moment.
"Then you wish to return to Rome," he said softly; "you take interest
here?"
"Why yes," I said, "I'm not a barbarian. I'm from Illinois."
"Then why do you go away?"
"Our time is so limited."
"Ah, Mees Wick, you have all of your life." The Italians certainly have
exquisite voices.
"That is true," I said thoughtfully.
"Many young American ladies now live always in Italy," pursued Count
Filgiatti.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|