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Updated: June 24, 2025
But scarcely has he cast his vote for this, the Juno of the divine rivals, when he remembers the triple lovelinesses of the Larian Aphrodite, disclosed in all their placid grace from Villa Serbelloni; the green blue of the waters, clear as glass, opaque through depth; the millefleurs roses clambering into cypresses by Cadenabbia; the laburnums hanging their yellow clusters from the clefts of Sasso Eancio; the oleander arcades of Varenna; the wild white limestone crags of San Martiuo, which he has climbed to feast his eyes with the perspective, magical, serene, Lionardesquely perfect, of the distant gates of Adda.
Far on the other side of the lake the houses of Cadenabbia were all ablaze with millions of small gold points, the yellow glow from which glimmered down on the black water.
Beneath it lie the two villages of Cadenabbia and Menaggio; behind and up are rank on rank of shadowy mountains, sharply outlined against the sky, the foothills leading back to the giant Alps. The last tiny cream-colored house of the villages stands a full two miles this side of the tortuous path that winds up the face of the chrome-colored cliff.
My tennis-courts are out of the way. We can settle this matter to-morrow morning at dawn. Ellicott will come over from Cadenabbia with his saws. He's close-mouthed. All you need to do is to keep quiet. You can spend the night at the villa with me, and I'll give you a few ideas about shooting a pistol. Here; write what I dictate." He pushed Abbott over to the desk and forced him into the chair.
When we went indoors afterwards I gave her that ruby heart ring of mine that she likes. All day long we were busy doing agreeable things. We lunched down by the lake shore, in the garden of a big hotel there, and afterwards were rowed across to Cadenabbia, in one of the canopied boats, to visit the Villa Carlotta in its wonderful terraced garden.
Instead of being greeted with icy glances from stormy eyes, he encountered such smiles as this adorable creature had never before bestowed upon him. He was in the clouds. That night at Cadenabbia had apparently knocked the bottom out of his dream. Women were riddles which only they themselves could solve for others. For this one woman he was perfectly ready to throw everything aside.
The wardrobe was voluminous; I exchanged a paternal glance with my charge as the <i>douanier</i> plunged his brown fists into it. Who was the lady at Cadenabbia? What was she to me or I to her? She wouldn't know, when she rustled down to dinner next day, that it was I who had guided the frail skiff of her public basis of vanity to port. So unseen but not unfelt do we cross each other's orbits.
She climbed the winding road to Criante, the lovely village above Cadenabbia; then, turning to the left, she mounted a path that led to the woods which overhang the famous gardens of the Villa Carlotta. Such a path! To the left hand, and, as it seemed, steeply beneath her feet, all earth and heaven the wide lake, the purple mountains, the glories of a flaming sky.
The encounter over at Cadenabbia was not the first by many. Herr Rosen! His presence in this room under that name was an insult, and he intended to call the interloper to account the very first opportunity he found. Perhaps Celeste, sitting as quiet as a mouse upon the piano-stool, was the only one who saw these strange currents drifting dangerously about.
At the Cadenabbia Hotel, the table d'hôte had gathered in the visitors; a few boats passed and repassed in the distance, but on land all was still. Suddenly he took her hand with a firm grasp. "Are you never going to forgive me?" he said, in a low voice. "I suppose I ought to bless you." Her face seemed to him to express the tremulous misery of a heart deeply, perhaps irrevocably, wounded.
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