"Where did you get those roses?" Katie asked, as they descended from the carriage with their arms full.

"Gathered them, of course," replied Richard promptly, although the question had not been addressed to him.

"Richard gathered them for us," added Ellen. "He is a brother worth having."

"Marion and I didn't see any like them," said Katie.

CHAPTER XVI

A CHANGE IN MARION

It was the evening of Const.i.tution Day, the Italian Fourth of July.

Aunt Caroline and Irma, seated in the doorway of the hotel, watched the pa.s.sing crowd. On the Arno in front of the house, not far from the Ponte Vecchio, were several boats decorated with flags and paper lanterns.

There was also a large float, and the voluble porter explained that a chorus was to be stationed there during the evening to sing.

"Where is Marion?" asked Uncle Jim.

"He has walked to the Cascine with Katie and Richard and Ellen. I wished to stay with Aunt Caroline," replied Irma.

"I am afraid Katie has cut you out with Marion," exclaimed Uncle Jim.

"How foolish!" protested Aunt Caroline. "Irma has no such ideas. Marion has never exerted himself for Irma, and she has always been too busy to think of him."

"When it's quite dark," continued Uncle Jim, "we must walk over to the Piazza in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. They say the illumination of the tower is the thing best worth seeing, better even than the fireworks these crowds are waiting for."

A little later the three stood in front of the tall gray tower of the old palace, whose outlines were wonderfully beautiful, set in a frame of fire made up of countless tiny lamps.

"h.e.l.lo," cried a voice, "we didn't expect to see you here." Richard was the speaker, and with him were Marion and Ellen.

"Where is Katie?" asked Aunt Caroline.

"Oh, she and Marion have had some kind of a spat, and she insisted on our leaving her at the hotel."

"Spat! Nonsense!" interposed Ellen.

"Well, a quarrel by any other name will do just as well. I'm glad she can stay with mother. One of us ought to be with her."

Marion made no reply to Richard. But he walked beside Ellen on their way back to the hotel, while Richard helped Irma find a way through the throng.

"What a quiet, orderly crowd!" cried Aunt Caroline, "and to-day their Fourth of July!"

"It's only after they have crossed the Atlantic that foreigners grow uproarious. There seems to be more law and order over here."

The Lungarno was packed with people when they reached the hotel, so all went upstairs to Aunt Caroline's room, that overlooked the river and the boat from which the fireworks were sent off. There were one or two set pieces, the chorus on the large float sang several part songs, and at intervals showers of stars of all colors fell from the Roman candles and rockets sent up from the boats.

It was late when they began to separate. "Where is Marion?" asked Aunt Caroline, when the lights were turned on, and the others came to bid her good night.

"He must have gone to his room," said Uncle Jim. "I noticed half an hour ago that he was not here."

"Perhaps he didn't like the noise," said Richard, with what sounded like a slight shade of sarcasm. "His nerves are not very strong."

The next morning, when Irma went to breakfast, none of the older members of her party were at the table, and Marion, too, was missing.

"Of course Marion didn't give it to me," she heard Katie say, as she took her seat.

"It's certainly very strange that it should be the same device as his small seal."

"Probably they wouldn't look at all alike, if you should bring them together and compare them."

"Can mine eyes deceive me?" Richard a.s.sumed a tragic tone.

"It's the ring that Katie has around her scarf." Ellen explained to Irma. "Richard is sure that Marion gave it to her. But he ought to believe Katie when she says this is not so."

Irma looked closely at the ring through which Katie had pulled the end of her silk necktie. The dragon carved on the agate stone certainly seemed familiar. Yes, she recalled the same dragon on an old-fashioned seal that Marion had shown her one day; at least it looked the same, though of course the dragon was by no means an uncommon device. But after all, this was no affair of hers. If Katie said Marion had not given the ring to her there seemed to be no reason for Richard to doubt Katie's word. Suppose even that he had loaned it to her, why should her cousin concern himself about it?

After breakfast Katie and Ellen drove to their dressmaker's, and just as Irma had finished a home letter Marion appeared in the reading-room.

"I had an early breakfast," he explained, "and have been out walking.

Now I wish some one would take a trolley ride with me. Will _you_ go?"

At first Irma could hardly believe the invitation was meant for her; she had been so little with Marion the past fortnight.

But when she saw that he undoubtedly meant her, she accepted gladly.

"It does not matter where we go," he cried, as the car started. "I simply wish to see what the suburbs are like out this way."

Soon they had pa.s.sed beyond the old narrow streets, and were running through a broad avenue of the newer Florence that has begun to drive the old city out of sight.

After a word or two to the conductor, "Why, this is a car for Fiesole,"

said Marion. "I had meant to drive out there some day, but now----"

He did not finish the sentence, but later in the morning Irma realized what he had had in mind when he spoke.

"Fiesole," Marion began to explain, "the old Faesulae, was an important place long before Florence. I believe there are imposing Etruscan fortifications still to be seen up there on the hill. But Fiesole was conquered and destroyed in the early part of the twelfth century, and Florence soon became rich. Many English and Americans have country villas at Fiesole. It is not so damp there as in Florence. There are several people I know living out there, if I cared to see them."

"Oh, we don't come to Europe to see Americans," said Irma, noticing a severe expression on Marion's face, such as she had seen before, when Americans were spoken of.

After leaving the car they rambled around the pleasant, shady roads of Fiesole for an hour or more, visiting the piazza and the old church. At the terminus they had to wait a little time for the car by which they were to return. While standing near a little shop where they had made some purchases, a tall girl rushed up to Marion, and, seizing his hand, first raised it to her lips, and then poured out a flood of words.

Marion reddened, pulled his hand away, and looked puzzled, as the girl began to talk. But before she had finished her long, long sentence, his face cleared, and he turned toward Irma.

"She was on the _Ariadne_; her mother died. Perhaps you remember."