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Hillard half rose from his seat. "Somebody you know?" asked Merrihew. "The man at the wheel looked a bit like Sandford." "Sandford? By George, that would be jolly!" "Perhaps they will come this way again. Tomass', follow that motor." Sure enough, when the car reached the Largo Vittoria, it wheeled and came rumbling back. This time Hillard had no doubts. He stood up and waved his arms.
It was early in the morning; the sky was as yellow as brass; patches of dew still dampened the sidewalks, and the air was still with the promise of heat in the later day. Merrihew stuffed the last bill into his wallet and gave his attention to the letter. He was not long indifferent, for the letter was from no less a person than Kitty. It was, however, addressed to Hillard. My dear Mr.
The ventilation was so bad that the two friends were forced to give up the game. Under the arcade they found a small table. It was cool and delightful here, and there was a second boot of Munich beer. Officers passed to and fro, in pairs or with women. Presently two officers, one in the resplendent uniform of a colonel, went past. Merrihew touched Hillard with his foot excitedly.
Hillard scratched his chin reflectively. "I'll pay for the luncheon myself," he said. "You had better. It was great sport to watch your face. I'll be in a happy frame of mind all day now." After luncheon Merrihew secretly bought two boxes of cigars to carry along. They were good cigars and cost him fifteen dollars.
Pompeii by moonlight, however, was worth a thousand ordinary dreams; and Merrihew, who had abundant imagination, but no art with which to express it happily or unhappily saw Lytton's story unfold in all its romantic splendor.
And the colored marbles of the ducal palace fairly palpitate. In the bronze fountain at the left of the cathedral will be more doves taking their morning ablutions. It was such a picture Merrihew and Hillard, his guide, came upon the morning following their arrival. They had not visited it during the night.
Merrihew inscribed on the back of an envelope, for future reference, the four phrases, and in ten minutes had, with the assistance of his preceptor, mastered their pronunciations. "I wish I had been born a hotel concierge," he said mournfully. "They speak all languages, and the Lord knows where they find the time to learn them."
Merrihew chewed his cigar with subdued fierceness. He knew very well that he was destined to go to Europe. Kitty Killigrew, who had promised to mail the route they were to play, and hadn't! "It is written, Dan, that you shall go with me. Think of running into the theater and seeing Kitty! I begin to like the music of that name." "We'll settle this argument right here and now."
They waved their hands cheerily and vanished from sight. They never saw Giovanni again; yet his hand was to work out the great epoch in Hillard's destiny. "Poor devil!" said Merrihew. "You remember, Jack, that I once went in for medicine?" "Yes." "Well, I have some part of the gift yet. That little girl will not live three months; heart.
See that village on the cliffs toward the south? That's Sorrento, where I was born. The eruption of '72 happened while I was there, but I was too young to take any particular notice. Sh! Look at Giovanni." Merrihew looked at the old Roman. Tears were running down his cheeks, and his gaze strove to pierce the distance to the far-off Sabine Hills. Italy!
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