Shawl-Straps - Part 14
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Part 14

Amanda left the decision to her invisible duenna, and with a profusion of compliments and thanks, they got away, being gallantly escorted to the gate by the young count, who filled their hands with flowers, and gazed pensively after them, as if he found the society of two bright American girls very agreeable after that of his lofty parents, or the peasantry of the town.

Home they ran and bounced in upon Livy, blooming and breathless, to pour out their tale, and suggest an immediate departure to the blissful spot where counts and crocuses flourished with Italian luxuriance.

But after the first excitement had subsided, Lavinia put a wet blanket on the entire plan by declaring that she would never board with any grasping old patrician, who would charge for every bow, and fall back on his ancestors if he was found cheating. She would go and look at the place, but not enter it, nor be beholden to the resident Apollo for so much as a dandelion.

So the mourning damsels led the griffin over the viaduct, through the dirty little town, by the villa on its least attractive side. Up at the window were the two little Napoleonic heads, with big, black eyes, strong chins, and dark hair streaked across wide, olive-coloured foreheads. A vision of papa was visible in the garden pruning a vine with gloves on his aristocratic hands, and a shabby velvet coat on his highly connected back. Also, afar off on the balcony--oh, sight to touch a maiden's heart!--was the young count gazing wistfully towards Albano.

He did not see the charmers as they crept down the rough road close to the garden wall, and went sadly home, along the blooming path, to the 'Tomb of the Four Thimbles,' as Livy irreverently called the ruin which has an ornament at each of its corners like a gigantic thimble of stone.

A note in Amanda's most elegant French, declining the apartments in the name of Madame Duenna, closed the door of this Eden upon the wandering peris, who entered never more. Now and then, as they went clattering by on their donkeys to Lake Nemi, or some other picturesque spot,

They saw again the crocus bloom, And, leaning from that lofty room, Sir Launcelot with face of gloom Look down to Camelot.

Up flew their veils and floated wide, But Livy pinned them to her side, 'The curse has come upon us!' cried The ladies of Shalott.

The second adventure befell Amanda alone, and in this wise.

Going one day to Rome, on business, she found herself shut up in a car with a gorgeous officer and a meek young man, who read papers all the way. The tall soldier, in his gray and silver uniform, with a furred, frogged, and braided jacket, not to mention the high boots or the becoming cap, was so very polite to the lone lady that she could not remain dumb without positive rudeness. So Amanda conversed in her most charming manner, finding inspiration doubtless in the dark eyes and musical voice of her handsome _vis-a-vis_, for the officers from Turin are things of beauty and joys for ever to those who love to look on manly men.

Among other things, the two had a little joke about the Baron Rothschild, who rode about Albano on a tiny donkey with two servants behind him; also the Baroness, a painfully plain woman, with an ugly dog the image of herself.

When they arrived at Rome, however, their joke was turned against them, by the discovery that the meek man was the Baron's secretary, who would doubtless repeat their chat at head-quarters. To see the handsome man slap his brow, and then laugh like a boy at the fun, was worth a longer journey, Amanda thought, as he put her into a carriage, gave her his best martial salute, and went clanking away about his own affairs.

Amanda returned at 4 P.M., and her emotions may be imagined when the dark face of her officer peered in at the car window, and the melodious voice asked if he might be permitted to enter. Of course he might; and, as no secretary now spoilt the _tete-a-tete_, Mars became delightfully confidential, and poured his woes into the sympathising bosom of Amanda.

It had been a great affliction to him that his regiment was quartered at Albano for some months. _Mio Dio!_ so dull was it, life had already become a burden; but now, if the Signorina was to be there, if she permitted him to make himself known to her party, what joys were in store for him. The Signorina loved to ride. Behold he had superb horses languishing in the stables, that henceforth were dedicated to her use.

His fellow officers were gentlemen of good family, brave as lions, and dying of _ennui_; if they might be presented to the ladies, life would be worth having, and Albano a paradise, &c.

To all this devotion the prudent Amanda listened with pleasure, but promised nothing till Signore Mars had made the acquaintance of certain American gentleman and married ladies, then it would be possible to enjoy the delights of which he spoke. The Colonel vowed he would instantly devote himself to this task, and thus they came to the lonely little station at Albano.

Amanda had ordered the carriage to meet her; but it was not there, and she was forced to wait till all her fellow-pa.s.sengers were gone. All but the gallant officer, who decorously remained outside, marching to and fro as if on guard, till his servant came with his horse. Then he begged to be allowed to see why the carriage did not come, and Amanda consented, for night was falling, and two miles of mud lay between her and home.

Away dashed the servant, but his master did not follow: standing in the doorway, he declared that he must remain as the Signorina's protector, for no trains were due for hours; the depot man was gone, and it was too late for any lady to stay there alone. Again Amanda gratefully consented, wondering what would be the end of her adventure; and again the stately Colonel resumed his march outside, singing as he tramped, and evidently enjoying the escort duty that gave him so good an opportunity of displaying not only his gallantry, but his fine voice and handsome figure.

Down rattled the carriage at last, accompanied, to Amanda's dismay, by three of the Colonel's friends, who had evidently received a hint of the affair, and had come to have a hand in it.

With much bowing of the gentlemen, and much prancing of their fine horses, Amanda was handed to her seat, and went lumbering back to the hotel with her splendid escort careering about her, to the great edification of the town.

When the rescued damsel told the tale to her mates, Matilda tore her hair and lamented that she had not been there. Even the stern Livy had no lecture for the erring lamb, but was as full of interest as either of the girls, for anything in the shape of a soldier was dear to her heart.

When the ladies rode forth next day, three elegant St. Georges in full rig saluted as these modern Unas ambled by on their meek donkeys--a performance punctually executed ever afterward whenever the three blue veils appeared. Much curvetting went on before the hotel door; much clanking of spurs and sabres was heard in the little lane on to which the apartment of the ladies looked, and splendid officers seemed to spring up like violets in secluded spots where maidens love to stroll.

It was all very nice; and the girls were beginning to feel that the charms of Albano rivalled those of Rome, when a sad blow upset their castles in the air, and desolated the knights over the way.

The highly respectable Americans who were to serve as the link between the soldiers and the ladies decidedly declined the office, objecting to the martial gentleman as being altogether too dangerous to bring into the dove-cot. So the poor dears sighed in vain, and the longing damsels never rode the fine horses that were temptingly paraded before them on all occasions.

They did their best; but it was soon evident to Lavinia that in some unguarded moment the impetuous Mat would yield to the spell and go gambading away for a ride _sans_ duenna, _sans_ habit, _sans_ propriety, _sans_ everything. Amanda likewise seemed losing her head, and permitted the dark-eyed Colonel to talk to her when they met; only a moment--but what a perilous moment it was!--when this six-foot Mars leaned over a green hedge and talked about the weather in the softest Italian that ever melted a woman's heart.

'I'm going to Venice next week; so you may as well make up your minds to it, girls. I _cannot_ bear this awful responsibility any longer; for I am very sure you will both be off to Turin with those handsome rascals if we stay much longer. My mind is made up, and I won't hear a word.'

Thus Lavinia, with a stern countenance; for the romantic old lady felt the charm as much as the girls did, and decided that discretion was the better part of valour for the whole party.

'I should never dare to go home and tell my honoured parents that Mat had run away with a man as handsome as Jove, and as poor as Job.

Amanda's indignant relatives would rise up and stone me if I let her canter into matrimony with the fascinating Colonel, who may have a wife and ten children in Turin, for all we know. They _must_ be torn away at once, or my character as duenna is lost for ever.'

Having made up her mind, Livy steeled her heart to all appeals, and wrote letters, packed trunks, and watched her little flock like a vigilant sheep-dog.

How she would ever have got them through that last week is very uncertain, if a providential picnic had not helped her.

A fair was held in the town, and a delightful surprise-party was got up among the artists of Rome. Twenty-five came driving over in a big carriage, with four gaily decorated horses, postilions, hampers of lunch, flutes and horns, and much jollity bottled up for the occasion.

A very festive spectacle they made as they drove through the narrow streets with flowers and streamers in their hats, singing and joking in true artistic style.

They meant to have lunched in the open air; but, as it was cloudy, decided to spread the feast at the hotel. Such a delightful revel as followed! A scene from the 'Decameron,' modernised, would give some idea of it; for after the banquet all adjourned to the gardens of the Doria Villa, and there disported themselves as merrily as if all the plagues of life were quite forgotten, and death itself among the lost arts.

Flirting and dancing, charades and singing, stories and statues, poems and pictures, gossip and gambols, absorbed the hours as pleasantly as in the olden time. And if the costumes were not as picturesque as those in Vedder's fine picture, the ladies were as lovely, the gentlemen as gallant, and all much better behaved than those of Boccaccio's party.

A few drops of rain quenched the fun at its height, and sent the revellers home as fast as four horses could take them, leaving the town gaping after them, and our ladies much enlivened by the delights of the day.

This third and last event pleasantly ended their sojourn at Albano; for a day or two later they vanished, leaving the dear officers disconsolate till the next batch of travelling ladies came to comfort their despair.

A week was spent in Venice, floating about all day from one delightful old church to another, or paying visits to t.i.tians and Tintorettos; buying little turtles, photographs, or Venetian gla.s.s; eating candied fruit and seeing the doves fed in the square of San Marco; visiting shops full of dusty antiquities, or searching the stalls on the Rialto for Moor's-head rings; being rowed to the Lido by Giacomo in a red sash; and lulled to sleep at night by the songs of a chorus that floated under the windows in the moonlight.

Lavinia never could get used to seeing the butcher, the baker, and the postman go their rounds in boats. Matilda was in bliss, with a gondola all to herself, where she sat surrounded with water-colours, trying to paint everything she saw; for here the energy she had lost at Rome seemed to return to her. Amanda haunted a certain shop, trying to make the man take a reasonable sum for a very ancient and ugly bit of jewellery, which she called 'a sprigalario,' for want of a better name; and after each failure she went off to compose herself with a visit to the Doges.

Of course they all saw the Bridge of Sighs and the dungeons below, with their many horrors; likewise a Ma.s.s at St. Mark's, where the Patriarch was a fat old soul in red silk, even to his shoes and holy pocket-handkerchief; and the service appeared to consist in six purple priests dressing and undressing him like an old doll, while a dozen white-gowned boys droned up in a gold c.o.c.k-loft, and many beggars whined on the dirty floor below.

Do other travellers eat locusts, I wonder, as ours did one sunny day, sitting on church steps, and discover that the food of the Apostle was not the insect whose 'zeeing' foretells hot weather; but the long, dry pods of the locust-tree, sweet to the taste, but rather 'dry fodder,' as the impious Livy remarked after choking herself with a quarter of a yard of it.

When the week was up Mat implored to be left behind with Angela, the maid, and Brio, a big poodle possessed of the devil. But she was torn away, and only consoled by the promise of many new gloves, with as many b.u.t.tons as she pleased, when they got to Munich.

'The lakes are the proper entrance into Italy, and Venice a lovely exit.

One soon tires of it, and is ready to leave, which is an excellent arrangement, though I should prefer to depart in some more cheerful vehicle than a hea.r.s.e,' observed Lavinia, as they left the long, black gondola at the steps of the station.

'Haven't you a sigh for those lovely lakes, a tear for Albano, a pang of regret for Rome?' asked Amanda, hoping to wring one moan for Italy from the old lady.

'Not a sigh, not a tear, not a regret. I find I like them all better the farther I get from them, and by the time I am at home I may be able to say "I adore them," but I doubt it,' returned the incorrigible Livy, and from that moment Amanda regarded her Granny as one dead to all the dear delusions of antiquity.

VI.

_LONDON._

'From this moment I cease to be the commander-in-chief. Livy adores England, can speak the language, understands the money, and knows all about London; so _she_ shall be leader, and I will repose after my long labour.' With this remark Amanda retired from office covered with glory, and her mates voted to erect a statue in her honour as a token of their undying grat.i.tude.

Lavinia took the lead from the moment they landed at St. Catherine's Warf; and though somewhat demoralized by a rough pa.s.sage of eighteen hours from Antwerp, was equal to the occasion. She did love England, and thought London the most delightful city in the world, next to Boston.