This spring? Is the Camorra making trouble again?
Oh, no; not the Camorra. But unless all signs fail, there is a prospect of some fairly exciting riots.
Really? Here in Rome?
Well, no; probably not in Romethere are too many soldiers. More likely in the Neapolitan provinces. I am sorry, he added, since you seem to find them so entertaining, that we cant promise you a riot on your own door-step; but I dare say, when it comes to the point, youll find Naples near enough.
I give you fair warning, Uncle Howard, she said, if there are any riots in Naples, Im going down to see them. What is the trouble? What are they rioting about?
If there are any riots, said her uncle, you, my dear young lady, will amuse yourself at Villa Vivalanti until they are over, and he abruptly changed the subject.
The talk drifted back to the villa again. Mrs. Copley afforded their guest a more detailed description.
Nineteen bedrooms aside from the servants quarters, and room in the stable for thirty horses! she finished.
The princes of Vivalanti must have kept up an establishment in their pre-Riviera days.
Mustnt they? agreed Marcia cordially. The new villa was proving an unexpectedly soothing topic. Well keep up an establishment too, she added. Were going to give a house-party when the Roystons come down from Paris, andI know what well do! Well give a ball for my birthdaywont we, Uncle Howard? And have everybody out from Rome, and the ilex grove all lighted with coloured lamps!
Not if I have anything to say about it, said Mr. Copley.
But you wont have, said Marcia.
The only reason that I consented to take this villa was that I thought it was far enough away to escape parties for a time. You said
I said if you got nearer Rome wed give a party every day, while as it is Im only planning one party for all the three months.
Sybert and I wont come to it, he grumbled.
Perhaps you and Mr. Sybert wont be invited.
I dont know where youd find two such charming men, said Mrs. Copley.
Romes full of them, returned Marcia imperturbably.
Who are the Roystons, Miss Marcia? Sybert inquired.
They are the friends I came over with last fall. You know Mr. Dessart?
The artist? Yes, I know him.
Well, Mrs. Royston is his aunt, and she has two daughters who
Are his cousins, suggested Mr. Copley.
Yes; to be sure, and very charming girls. They spend a great deal of time over hereat least Mrs. Royston and Eleanor do. Margaret has been in college.
And Mr. Royston, asked Copley, stays in America and attends to his business?
Yes; Mrs. Royston and Eleanor go over quite often to keep him from getting lonely.
Very generous of them, Sybert laughed.
Theyve spent winters in Cairo and Vienna and Paris and a lot of different places, pursued Marcia. Eleanor, she added ruminatingly, has been out nine seasons, and she has had a good deal ofexperience.
Dear, dear! said her uncle; and you are proposing to expose all Rome
Shes very attractive, said Marcia, and then she glanced at Sybert and laughed. If she should happen to take a fancy to you, Mr. Sybert
The young man rose to his feet and looked about for his hat. Goodness! he murmured, what would she do?
Theres no telling. Marcia regarded him with a speculative light in her eyes.
A young woman who has been practising for nine seasons certainly ought to have her hand in, Copley agreed. Perhaps, after all, Sybert, it is best we should not meet her.
Sybert found his hat and paused for a moment.
You cant frighten me that way, Miss Marcia, he said, with a shake of his head. I have been out thirteen seasons myself.
CHAPTER III
May I come in for tea, Cousin Marcia? Gerald inquired, with a note of anxiety in his voice, as they climbed the stone staircase of the Palazzo Rosicorelli. They had been spending the afternoon in the Borghese gardens, and the boys very damp sailor-suit bore witness to the fact that he had been indulging in the forbidden pleasure of catching goldfish in the fountain.
Indeed you may not, she returned emphatically. You may go with Marietta and have some dry clothes put on before your mother sees you.
Gerald, realizing the wisdom of this course, allowed himself to be quietly spirited off the back way, in spite of the fact that he heard the alluring sound of Syberts voice in the direction of the salon. Marcia went on in without waiting to take off her hat, and she met the Melvilles in the ante-room, on the point of leaving.
Good afternoon. Why do you go so early? she asked.
Oh, we are coming back later; we are just going home to dress. Your uncle is giving a dinner to-nighta very formal affair.
Is that so? she laughed. I have not been invited.
You will be; dont feel hurt. Its a general invitation issued to all comers.
Marcia found no one within but her aunt and uncle and Mr. Sybert.
What is this I hear about your giving a dinner to-night, Aunt Katherine? she asked as she settled herself in a wicker chair and stretched out her hand for a cup of tea.
You must ask your uncle. I have nothing to do with it, Mrs. Copley disclaimed. He invited the guests, and he must provide the menu.
What is it, Uncle Howard?
Merely a little farewell dinner. I thought we ought to put on a bright face our last night, you know.
One would think you were going to be led to execution at dawn.
We will hope its nothing worse than exile, said Sybert.
Who are your guests, and when were they invited?
My guests are the people who dropped in late to tea; I did not think of it early enough to make the invitation very general. The list, I believe, includes the Melvilles, Signora Androit and the Contessa Torrenieri, Sidney Carthrope the sculptor, and a certain young Frenchman, a most alluring youth, who called with him, but whose name for the moment escapes me.
Adolphe Benoit, said Sybert.
The Prix de Rome? asked Marcia. Oh, I know him! I met him a few weeks ago at a tea; hes very entertaining. I suppose, she added, considering the list, that he will fall to my share?
Unless you prefer Mr. Sybert.
An embarrassing predicament, Miss Marcia, Sybert laughed. If it will facilitate matters we can draw lots.
Not at all, said Marcia graciously, I know the Contessa would rather have you; and as she is the guest I will let her choose. I hope your dinner will be a success, she added to her uncle, but I cant help feeling that you show a touching faith in the cook.
Thank you, my dear; I am of an optimistic turn of mind, and François has never failed me yet.How did the Borghese gallery go?
Very well. I met Mr. Dessart thereand I met the King outside.
Ah, I hope His Majesty was enjoying good health?
He seemed to be. I didnt stop to speak to him, but there was a boy in a group of seminarists near us who called out, Viva il papa, just as he passed.
And what happened? Sybert inquired. Did the Kings guard behead him on the spot, or did they only send him to the galleys for life?
The Kings guard fortunately had eyes only for the King, and the old priest gathered his flock together and scuttled off down one of the side paths, as frightened as a hen who sees a hawk.
And with good reasonbut wait till the lads grow up, and theyll do something besides shout and run.
There was an undertone in Syberts voice different from his usual listless drawl. Marcia glanced up at him quickly and Dessarts insinuations flashed through her mind.
Do you mean you would rather have Leo XIII king instead of Humbert? she asked.
Heavens, no! No one wants the temporal power backnot even the Catholics themselves.
I should think that when the Italians have gone through so much to get their king, they might be satisfied with him. They ought to have more patience, and not expect the country to be rich in a minute. Everything cant be done all at once; and as for blaming the government because the African war didnt turn out wellwhy, no one could foresee the result. It was a mistake instead of a crime.
Sybert was watching her lazily, with an amused smile about his lips. Will you pardon me, Miss Marcia, if I ask if those are your own conclusions, or the opinions of our young friend the American artist?
He does not plot against the King, at any rate! she retorted.
Please, Miss Marcia, he begged, dont think so badly of me as that. Really, Im not an anarchist. I dont want to blow His Majesty up.
Go home and dress, Sybert, Copley murmured, taking him by the arm. I have to go and interview the cook, and I dont dare leave you and my niece together. Theres no telling what would happen.
Shes a suspicious young woman, Sybert complained. Cant you teach her to take your friends on trust?
For the matter of that, she doesnt even take her uncle on trust.
And no wonder! said Marcia. I forgot to tell you my other adventure, just as the carriage turned into the Corso we got jammed in close to the curb and had to stop. I looked up and saw a man standing on the side-walk, glaring at me over the top of a newspapersimply glaringand suddenly he jumped to the side of the carriage and thrust the paper in my hands. He said something in Italian, but too fast for me to catch, and before I could move, Marietta had snatched it up and dashed it back in his face. The paper was named the Cry of the People; I just caught one word in it, and that was she paused dramaticallyCopley! Now, Uncle Howard, she finished, do you think you ought to be trusted? When it gets to the point that the people in the street
She stopped suddenly. She had caught a quick glance between her uncle and Sybert. What is it? she asked. Do you know what it means?
It means damned impudence! said her uncle. Ill have that editor arrested if he doesnt keep still, and the two men stood eyeing each other a minute in silence. Then Copley gave a short laugh. Oh, well, he said, I dont believe the Grido del Popolo can destroy my character. Nobody reads it. He looked at his watch. Youd better go and dress, Marcia. My party begins promptly at eight.
You neednt use any such clumsy method as that of getting rid of me, she laughed. Im not going to stay where Im not wanted. All I have to say, she called back from the doorway, is that youd better stop badgering those poor old beggars, or youll be getting a warning to leave Rome as well as Naples.
Marcia rang for Granton.
Have you time to fix my hair now? she inquired as the maid appeared, or does Mrs. Copley need you?
Mrs. Copley hasnt begun to dress yet; she is watching Master Gerald eat his supper.
Oh, very well, then, there is time enough; Ill get through before she is ready for you. Do my hair sort of Frenchy, she commanded as she sat down before the mirror. What dress do you think Id better wear? she continued presently. That white one I wore last week, or the new green one that came from Paris yesterday?
I should think the white one, Miss Marcia, and save the new one for some party.
It would be more sensible, Marcia agreed; but, she added with a laugh, I think Ill wear the new one.
Granton got it out with an unsmiling face which was meant to convey the fact that she could not countenance this American prodigality. She had lived ten years with an elderly English duchess, and had thought that she knew the ways of the aristocracy.
The gown was a filmy green mousseline touched with rose velvet and yellow lace. Marcia put it on and surveyed herself critically. What do you think, Granton? she asked.
Its very becoming, Miss Marcia, Granton returned primly.
Yes, Marcia sighedand very tight! She caught up her fan and turned toward the door. Dont be hurt because I didnt take your advice, she called back over her shoulder. I never take anybodys, Granton.
She found her uncle alone in the salon, pacing the floor in a restless fashion, with two frowning lines between his brows. He paused in his walk as she appeared, and his frown gave place, readily enough, to a smile.
You look very well to-night, he remarked approvingly. Youerhave a new gown, havent you?
Oh, yes, Uncle Howard, she laughed. Its all the gown. Send your compliments to my dressmaker, 45 Avenue de lOpéra. I thought I would wear it in honour of Mr. Sybert; its so seldom we have him with us.
Mr. Copley received this statement with something like a grunt.
There! Uncle Howard, I didnt mean to hurt your feelings. Mr. Sybert is the nicest man that ever lived. And what I particularly like about him, is the fact that he is so genial and expansive and thoughtful for othersalways trying to put people at their ease.
Mr. Copley refused to smile. I am sorry, Marcia, that you dont like Sybert, he said quietly. Its because you dont understand him.
I dare say; and I suppose he doesnt like me, for the same reason.
He is a splendid fellow; Ive never known a better oneand a man can judge.
Marcia laughed. Uncle Howard, do you know what you remind me of? An Italian father who is arranging a marriage for his daughter, and having chosen the man, is recommending him for her approval.
Oh, no; I dont go to the length of asking you to fall in love with himthough you might do worsebut I should be pleased if you would treat himer
Respectfully, as I would my father.
More respectfully than you do your uncle, at any rate. He may not be exactly what youd call a ladys man
A ladys man! Uncle Howard, you make me furious when you talk like that; as if I only liked men with dimples in their chins, who dance well and get ices for you! Im sorry if I dont treat Mr. Sybert seriously enough; but really I dont think he treats me seriously, either. You think I dont know anything, just because I cant tell the difference between the Left and the Right. Ive only just come to Rome, and I dont see how you can expect me to know about Italian politics. You both of you laugh whenever I ask the simplest question.
But you ask such exceedingly simple questions, dear.
How can I help it when you give me such absurd answers?
Im sorry. Well try to do better in the future. I suppose weve both of us been a little worried this spring, and you probe us on a tender point.
But who ever heard of a mans being really worried over politicsthat is, unless hes running for something? They should be regarded as an amusement to while away your leisure. You and Mr. Sybert are so funny, Uncle Howard; you take your amusements so seriously.