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This is when ships are loading or unloading, but at other times we look upon a tranquil scene. Peppina brings in dell' acqua bollente, and I make the coffee in the little copper coffee-pot we bought in Paris, while Salemina heats the milk over the alcohol-lamp, which is the most precious treasure in her possession.
"Ye ken mair than's in the catecheesm," remarked Salemina, yawning a little as she put away her darning-ball. "It is pathetic to see you waste your time painting mediocre pictures, when as a lecturer upon love you could instruct your thousands."
As for Francesca and me, there was plenty to occupy us in our regular letters to Ronald and Himself; and Salemina wrote several sheets of thin paper to somebody, no one in America, either, for we saw her put on a penny stamp. Our pleasant duties over, we looked into the cheerful glow of the turf sods while I read aloud Thackeray's Peg of Limavady.
Macdonald came into the room, and, walking directly up to Salemina, kissed her hand respectfully. "Miss Salemina," he said, with evident emotion, "I want to borrow one of your national jewels for my Queen's crown." "And what will our President say to lose a jewel from his crown?"
By this time we have agreed that the weekly bill as a whole is substantially correct, and all that Salemina has to do is to estimate our several shares in it; so Francesca and I say good night and leave her toiling like Cicero in his retirement at Tusculum. By midnight she has generally brought the account to a point where a half-hour's fresh attention in the early morning will finish it.
I notice that she tries to make me divert their attention when Dr. Gerald is present; for it is a bit suggestive to a widower to see his children pursue, hang about, and caress a lovely, unmarried lady. Broona, especially, can hardly keep away from Salemina; and she is such a fascinating midget, I should think anybody would be glad to have her included in a marriage contract.
The next best woman-person in the world with whom to see Venice, barring the lovely non-existent daughter, is Salemina. It is our first visit, but, alas! we are, nevertheless, much better informed than I could wish.
"Penelope, has it ever occurred to you that Elizabeth Ardmore is seriously interested in Mr. Macdonald?" Salemina propounded this question to me with the same innocence that a babe would display in placing a lighted fuse beside a dynamite bomb. Francesca naturally heard the remark, although it was addressed to me, pricked up her ears, and missed the tumbler by several feet.
Arriving a trifle after ten, somewhat weary in body and slightly anxious in mind, I followed Salemina into the tiny cake-shop across the street from the station. She returned the tumbler, and the man, who seemed to consider it an unexpected courtesy, thanked us volubly. I held out my hand and reminded him timidly of the one franc fifty centimes. He inquired what I meant. I explained.
"I have my doubts," remarked Francesca; "a liking for personal service is not a distinguishing characteristic of New Englanders; they are not the stuff of which maids are made. If she were French or German or Senegambian, in fact anything but a Saleminian, we might use her; we have always said we needed some one." Salemina brightened.
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