Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-02-08

| character, notably in the hall and staircase and
| the room on the half flight. These were to be
Moorish, with good deal Of lattice work screen
! and Oriental drapery. heard my mother dis
cussng the coloring and arrangement with
| Uncle Ambrose. and was often called into coun-
Gil; but was just now too completely stepped in
the loneliness OF Venice to take a very warm in
| terest in any London house. What L sighed for
was one of those fifteenth century palaces
| which saw given over to business purposes
/ manufactures for carved furniture or Venetian
glass, store houses, show rooms, workshops
palaces in which painters like Titan had lived
and worked, palaces where the wallis still
showed the armorial bearings of historic fam
| ilies oh, to think that the roof which had
sheltered Doge should ever be vulgarized by
| trade.
Cyril laughs at my horror of trade and re-
minds me that Venice, in the days Of her great
| est splendor. was a city of traders and that
now she is dependent on reviving commerce
for her resurrection from poverty and decay.
Yesterday Cyril and had grand excursion
all to ourselves, or with only my duenna
Broomfeld to make third: good old Broom
field. who always looks the other way when we
are talking confdcntially. dare say she won
one language and then in another. Cyrirs
Italian is of the poorest quality, by the way,
and very limited in quantity, but he pretends
that he likes to hear me talk and he pretends
to understand me. Our chief condolences, how
| ever, are in French, a language in which he is
quite at home. Indeed. here it is who am at
| fault for to tease me he often persists in talk
ing Partisan, which is quite different tongue
to the French in which Racine and Boileau
wrote.
We started early, on morning that was more
like June than February. We had our own
| gondola, and our two men. looking deliciously
| picturesque in their black livery and yellow
silk scarfs. They are both dear creatures
and have become part of our family. Paolo
is bachelor, and he is to accompany the gon-
dola to Lamford. and live and die in our SER
vice; but Giovanni has a wife and two babies.
SO We do not import him. 1t will be an ago
! niZing moment when have to bid him good
| by. l save my dessert every night after dinner
and give 1t to him next morning for his bam-
bini, and his face becomes one broad grin of
delight when l hand him my little offering.
| One could not venture upon such childishness
| with Thames waterman whose only idea of
Kindness from his superiors begins and ends
with beer.
We had most delightful picnic basket.
enough for the whole party, and we were to go
to Torcello, and to be free till sunset. Oh,
how like fairy tale it was to go gliding over
that blue lagoon, passing Murano and its Chin
| neys, and Burano and its lace factory. and
| gliding OH and ON by willow-shaded banks till
we came to all that is left of the mother city of
Venice.
We landed in narrow creek; among sedges
| and alders and long rank grass, and | could
have almost thought was in backwater at
home; but within few PAGES of our landing
! place stood the octagonal church of Santa
| fosca and the museum which calls itself
| Municipal Palace. and just behind them the
| Cathedral. very plain Of aspect outside, but
| grand and beautiful within.
After very conscientious visitation of the
| two churches and rather superficial exami-
nation of the marble relics in the museum, we
went In quest of picturesque spot for our pic
mic; and having found bower of alders on the
| edge Of the meadows where the cattle were
| feeding quietly in the sweet fowery grass on
! ground that was once the city of Torcello, we
lunched, as 1t were tete-atete with the Adriatic,
| for In front Of us we could see nothing but the
bright blue waters and the painted sails of
some fishing boats all aglow with crimson, and
! purple, and orange in the MONDAY light We
fingered long over the delicious meal, in air
that was far more celebrating than the cham
payne which Cyril persuaded me to taste, and
| which he himself drank with much gusto
told him that thought it horrid thing to
| see young man drinking champagne and pre-
tending to be severe judge OF the particular
| vintage. l considered such taste odiously
suggestive OF some over-fed alderman feasting
| in the city.
You will be taking turtle next" said.
why, you silly puss, we often have turtle at
our lunches in Tom Quod," said he. 'Do you
suppose we wait for gray hairs and red noses
before we learn to appreciate the good things
OF this life? An undergrad is as good judge
OF turtle and champagne as any alderman who
ever passed through long apprenticeship of
boiled beef and beer to the luxuries of Mansion
House.
| We sent Broomfeld off to find our gondoliers.
while we two wandered along the edge of that
| verdant island with our feet almost in the sea-
Now we have lost sight OF the churches we
might almost fancy ourselves on a desert
| island, said /.
Il only wish the fancy were true said he.
Il should revel in spell of summer idleness
on a desert island, if We only had enough to
eat"
That last condition takes the poetry out of
the whole thing" answered /.
"Oh, but you would not have us starving,
until we began to look at each other and Won
der which bit was the incest"
'Or the least nasty. No. that idea is too aw-
full; it is one of the dreadful mysteries of hu-
man baseness that we can never understand
till we are brought face to face with death
Oh. it is SO dreadful TO think that the mere
blind clinging to life can change men into
wild be asts And yet the thing happens. You
nave Med me with horror by the mere sug
gestion."
Daisy. you have too vivid an Imagination.
You look at me as if you the potentially
OF cannibalism depicted in my cOuntenance
You and will visit no island more savage than
Prospero's. and there it seems there was al
ways enough to eat"
'Prospero was an enchanter. SIR
And Miranda was az enchantress-for Ferd-
inand ATHEIST. Over him she flung earth's
most potent spell. viii you be my Miranda.
Daisy?'
We were standing on tina. quiet shore, the
waves coming curling azure and emerald and
siivery bright up to our very feet We were
as much alone as Ferdinand and Miranda can
ever have been OIL their enchanted isle, and
he had the supreme impertinence to put his
arm around my waist.
believe that kind of thing has happened to
Beatrice Reardon almost as often as the tooth
! ache; and my cousin Flora has told me that il
| is sometimes done at dances, in conservatory
where there are palms and tree ferns, after
supper; but such thing had never occurred
| to me. and it took my breath away
| BE my Miranda Daisy" he went on in such
| charming voice that L forgot to be angry
| with him. or at any rate forgot to express nv
| Indignation. Let me be your Ferdinand, and
| all the world will be my enchanted island. 1t
is the fairy who makes the SPELL
Il don't quite follow your meaning."I said
stupefed ut his audacity.
'Oh, Daisy, what horrid thing to saw" he
| exclaimed. evidently hurt. IL thought YOU we're
romantic and full of poetry. and you answer
| me as If you were made of wood"
He took away mis- arm. from my waist. I
| believe ii he had lef. It there any longer ne
would have pinched me savagely. His whole
| countenance changed
| Il can't quite understand YOU, Cyril" said
very mcckiy, Il thought you and were to be
| brother and sister. ="
You know you thought nothing of the kind,
Miss; you refused to accept my father as a
father, or to call him by that name You told
| me very distinctly on his wedding day that l
was not to have the privileges of brother,
! and replied that / had no desire To stopd