"Yes, pretty soon."

"Do not leave them. Go with them. Pursue the course you originally intended, just as though nothing had happened. If after your tour is finished you find that your feelings are as strong as ever, and that she is as dear to you as you say, then you may return here."

"And you?"

"I think all objections may be removed."

"It will take some weeks to finish our tour."

"Some weeks! Oh, do not return under three months at least."

"Three months! that is very long!"

"Not too long. The time will soon pa.s.s away. If you do not really love her you will be glad at having escaped; if you do you will rejoice at having proved your sincerity."

Some further conversation pa.s.sed, after which d.i.c.k, finding the priest inflexible, ceased to persuade, and acceded to his proposal.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

SHOWING HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO GET A LAUNDRESS, FOR THE SENATOR WANTED ONE, AND NOT KNOWING THE LANGUAGE GOT INTO A Sc.r.a.pE, NOT BY HIS OWN FAULT, FOR HE WAS CAREFUL ABOUT COMMITTING HIMSELF WITH THE LADIES; BUT PRAY, WAS IT HIS FAULT IF THE LADIES WOULD TAKE A FANCY TO HIM?

Signora Mirandolina Rocca, who was the landlady of the house where the Club were lodging, was a widow, of about forty years of age, still fresh and blooming, with a merry dark eye, and much animation of features. Sitting usually in the small room which they pa.s.sed on the way to their apartments, they had to stop to get their keys, or to leave them when they went out, and b.u.t.tons and d.i.c.k frequently stopped to have a little conversation. The rest, not being able to speak Italian, contented themselves with smiles; the Senator particularly, who gave the most beaming of smiles both on going and on returning.

Sometimes he even tried to talk to her in his usual adaptation of broken English, spoken in loud tones to the benighted but fascinating foreigner. Her attention to d.i.c.k during his sickness increased the Senator's admiration, and he thought her one of the best, one of the most kind-hearted and sympathetic of beings.

One day, toward the close of their stay in Rome, the Senator was in a fix. He had not had any washing done since he came to the city. He had ran through all his clean linen, and came to a dead stand. Before leaving for another place it was absolutely necessary to attend to this. But how? b.u.t.tons was off with the Spaniards; d.i.c.k had gone out on a drive. No one could help him, so he tried it himself. In fact, he had never lost confidence in his powers of making himself understood. It was still a fixed conviction of his that in cases of necessity any intelligent man could make his wants known to intelligent foreigners. If not, there is stupidity somewhere. Had he not done so in Paris and in other places?

So he rang and managed to make the servant understand that he wished to see the landlady. The landlady had always shown a great admiration for the manly, not to say gigantic charms of the Senator. Upon him she bestowed her brightest smile, and the quick flush on her face and heaving breast told that the Senator had made wild work with her too susceptible heart.

So now when she learned that the Senator wished to see her, she at once imagined the cause to be any thing and every thing except the real one. Why take that particular time, when all the rest were out?

she thought. Evidently for some tender purpose. Why send for her? Why not come down to see her? Evidently because he did not like the publicity of her room at the Conciergerie.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Senator In A Bad Fix.]

She arrayed herself, therefore, in her brightest and her best charms; gave an additional flourish to her dark hair that hung wavingly and luxuriantly, and still without a trace of gray over her forehead; looked at herself with her dark eyes in the gla.s.s to see if she appeared to the best advantage; and finally, in some agitation, but with great eagerness, she went to obey the summons.

Meantime the Senator had been deliberating how to begin. He felt that he could not show his bundle of clothes to so fair and fine a creature as this, whose manners were so soft and whose smile so pleasant. He would do any thing first. He would try a roundabout way of making known his wishes, trusting to his own powers and the intelligence of the lady for a full and complete understanding. Just as he had come to this conclusion there was a timid knock at the door.

"Come in," said the Senator, who began to feel a little awkward already.

"_Epermesso_?" said a soft sweet voice, "_se puo entrare_?" and Signora Mirandolina Rocca advanced into the room, giving one look at the Senator, and then casting down her eyes.

"_Umilissia serva di Lei, Signore, mi commandi_."

But the Senator was in a quandary. What could he do? How begin?

What gesture would be the most fitting for a beginning?

The pause began to be embarra.s.sing. The lady, however, as yet was calm--calmer, in fact, than when she entered.

So she spoke once more.

"_Di che ha Ella bisogna, Ill.u.s.tris simo_?"

The Senator was dreadfully embarra.s.sed. The lady was so fair in his eyes. Was this a woman who could contemplate the fact of soiled linen? Never.

"Ehem!" said he.

Then he paused.

"_Servo, devota_," said Signora Mirandolina. "_Che c'e, Signore_."

Then looking up, she saw the face of the Senator all rosy red, turned toward her, with a strange confusion and embarra.s.sment in his eye, yet it was a kind eye--a soft, kind eye.

"_Egli e forse innamorato di me_," murmured the lady, gathering new courage as she saw the timidity of the other. "_Che grandezza_!"

she continued, loud enough for the Senator to hear, yet speaking as if to herself. "_Che bellezza_! _un galantuomo, certamente--e quest'

e molto piacevole_."

She glanced at the manly figure of the Senator with a tender admiration in her eye which she could not repress, and which was so intelligible to the Senator that he blushed more violently than ever, and looked helplessly around him.

"_E innamorato di me, senza dubio_," said the Signora, "_vergogna non vuol che si sapesse_."

The Senator at length found voice. Advancing toward the lady he looked at her very earnestly and as she thought very piteously--held out both his hands, then smiled, then spread his hands apart, then nodded and smiled again, and said--

"Me--me--want--ha--hum--ah! You know--me--gentleman--hum--me --Confound the luck," he added, in profound vexation.

"_Signore_," said Mirandolina, "_la di Lei gentelezza me confonde_."

The Senator turned his eyes all around, everywhere, in a desperate half-conscious search for escape from an embarra.s.sing situation.

"_Signore noi ci siamo sole, nessuno ci senti_," remarked the Signora, encouragingly.

"Me want to tell you this!" burst forth the Senator. "Clothes--you know--washy--washy." Whereupon he elevated his eyebrows, smiled, and brought the tips of his fingers together.

"_Io non so che cosa vuol dir mi. Ill.u.s.trissimo_," said the Signora, in bewilderment.

"You--you--you know. Ah? Washy? Hey? No, no," shaking his head, "not washy, but _get_ washy."

The landlady smiled. The Senator, encouraged by this, came a step nearer.

"_Che cosa? Il cuor me palpita. Io tremo_," murmured La Rocca.

She retreated a step. Whereupon the Senator at once fell back again in great confusion.