|
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 20
It was settled that this brilliant personage should be brought to
Mrs. Walker's party, and then Mrs. Miller prepared to take her leave.
"I guess we'll go back to the hotel," she said.
"You may go back to the hotel, Mother, but I'm going to take
a walk," said Daisy.
"She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli," Randolph proclaimed.
"I am going to the Pincio," said Daisy, smiling.
"Alone, my dear--at this hour?" Mrs. Walker asked.
The afternoon was drawing to a close--it was the hour for
the throng of carriages and of contemplative pedestrians.
"I don't think it's safe, my dear," said Mrs. Walker.
"Neither do I," subjoined Mrs. Miller. "You'll get the fever,
as sure as you live. Remember what Dr. Davis told you!"
"Give her some medicine before she goes," said Randolph.
The company had risen to its feet; Daisy, still showing her pretty teeth,
bent over and kissed her hostess. "Mrs. Walker, you are too perfect,"
she said. "I'm not going alone; I am going to meet a friend."
"Your friend won't keep you from getting the fever,"
Mrs. Miller observed.
"Is it Mr. Giovanelli?" asked the hostess.
Winterbourne was watching the young girl; at this question his
attention quickened. She stood there, smiling and smoothing
her bonnet ribbons; she glanced at Winterbourne. Then, while she
glanced and smiled, she answered, without a shade of hesitation,
"Mr. Giovanelli--the beautiful Giovanelli."
"My dear young friend," said Mrs. Walker, taking her hand pleadingly,
"don't walk off to the Pincio at this hour to meet a beautiful Italian."
"Well, he speaks English," said Mrs. Miller.
"Gracious me!" Daisy exclaimed, "I don't to do anything improper.
There's an easy way to settle it." She continued to glance at Winterbourne.
"The Pincio is only a hundred yards distant; and if Mr. Winterbourne
were as polite as he pretends, he would offer to walk with me!"
Winterbourne's politeness hastened to affirm itself,
and the young girl gave him gracious leave to accompany her.
They passed downstairs before her mother, and at the door Winterbourne
perceived Mrs. Miller's carriage drawn up, with the ornamental
courier whose acquaintance he had made at Vevey seated within.
"Goodbye, Eugenio!" cried Daisy; "I'm going to take a walk."
The distance from the Via Gregoriana to the beautiful
garden at the other end of the Pincian Hill is, in fact,
rapidly traversed. As the day was splendid, however, and the
concourse of vehicles, walkers, and loungers numerous,
the young Americans found their progress much delayed.
This fact was highly agreeable to Winterbourne, in spite of his
consciousness of his singular situation. The slow-moving, idly
gazing Roman crowd bestowed much attention upon the extremely
pretty young foreign lady who was passing through it upon his arm;
and he wondered what on earth had been in Daisy's mind when she
proposed to expose herself, unattended, to its appreciation.
His own mission, to her sense, apparently, was to consign
her to the hands of Mr. Giovanelli; but Winterbourne, at once
annoyed and gratified, resolved that he would do no such thing.
"Why haven't you been to see me?" asked Daisy. "You can't
get out of that."
"I have had the honor of telling you that I have only just stepped
out of the train."
"You must have stayed in the train a good while after it stopped!"
cried the young girl with her little laugh. "I suppose you were asleep.
You have had time to go to see Mrs. Walker."
"I knew Mrs. Walker--" Winterbourne began to explain.
"I know where you knew her. You knew her at Geneva.
She told me so. Well, you knew me at Vevey. That's just as good.
So you ought to have come." She asked him no other question
than this; she began to prattle about her own affairs.
"We've got splendid rooms at the hotel; Eugenio says they're
the best rooms in Rome. We are going to stay all winter,
if we don't die of the fever; and I guess we'll stay then.
It's a great deal nicer than I thought; I thought it would
be fearfully quiet; I was sure it would be awfully poky.
I was sure we should be going round all the time with one of those
dreadful old men that explain about the pictures and things.
But we only had about a week of that, and now I'm enjoying myself.
I know ever so many people, and they are all so charming.
The society's extremely select. There are all kinds--English,
and Germans, and Italians. I think I like the English best.
I like their style of conversation. But there are some
lovely Americans. I never saw anything so hospitable.
There's something or other every day. There's not much dancing;
but I must say I never thought dancing was everything.
I was always fond of conversation. I guess I shall
have plenty at Mrs. Walker's, her rooms are so small."
When they had passed the gate of the Pincian Gardens,
Miss Miller began to wonder where Mr. Giovanelli might be.
"We had better go straight to that place in front," she said,
"where you look at the view."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|