The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-04-03
mother And the tinkle, tinkle of the man.

another. And the tinEle, tnkle OIL the man
dolins in the street beneath US. with their
sweet familiar airs, and the after appeal
for "a solid, lady fair" was yet an add
tional cause likely to convince me that I'M
less | could get Frena for a wife my subse-
qTent existence would not be worth snap
of finger and thumb.
Several times under the starlight, and
with the river at our feet rejecting The
hundreds of lampS on both banks of the
stream. it was on my lips 10 say. 'Feena
mia, will you be mine for life?"
But there was always something in the
way; either the memory of her mother
words that her daughter must marry rich
man. or the thought that was not worthy
Of so radiant, SO qneenly creature, or the
parayZlng fancy that Feena did not really
love me-
She seemed to have a hypnotismal knowl-
edge when these ambitions were strongest
within me- and though she might the mo-
ment before have called me Carlo milo"
with a glorious glance. she could, in the
very nick of time TO prevent the proposal,
turn aside for some fegned purpose, or
t. speak to one or other of the young men
who were also her victims. but who were
content to sigh toward her at distance.
This fools paradise lasted month. For
few days ia the time Feena was ill-suffi-
GENTLY so to be confined to her room. though
not to be kept In bed. During her indisposi-
ton 4 spent an anxious half hour daily in
the flower market by the Via Tornabuoni,
and my bouquets to her cost more money
than | could well afford. But | cOnsidere u
myself fully recompensed in being allowed
to present them to her in person. / do not
think that l shall soon forget her appear
ance as an invalid. rObed in white silk
gown. with SwanSdown at the neck. She
was always then particularly Dewitchlng.
l suppose my worse nights were those while
she was poorly. | WAS cruelty tormented b.
the thought what 1 should do.
But the girl herself was ali this time play
ing her own part.
IL came out one day when, az 1 was de-
scending the pension" stairs. l caught the
hall servant in low cOiioquy with an ele-
gantly dressed young man of the kind | had
come to deteSr. He was the MarcheSe
something or otber-at least bis visiting
card said sO-and the packet Of papers he
was urging the servant TO take 10 the
Signora Stauhope-Feena's mamma-were
what do you think? The family ere
dentials documents. etc, upon the strength
of which. plus his title, he hoped to be
permitted to pay his respects TO the Sig
norma Feena.
All this came out by degrees. Mrs Stan
hope made a contdant OF me. l could have
wished she had not; and yet should have
been very angry If the matter had not cOme
TO my ears.
From that day forward Feena was less
the old Feena than a new Feena, in whom
could not help seeing lamentable amount
OF commonplace, vulgar ambition.
She was tender enough to me when ! was
with her, but she did not disguise from me
that she vas caught by the tinsel of the
Marchese's title and family documents.
His estate ip CalaDria was said to be 4 sur
pIiSing number Of hectares in extent.
don't know lnw much a hectare means in
English acreage. nor do | wish 10 know, but
] couldn't help reminding Feena that she
knew very little about her precious Mar
chese, except that he was under five feet
in in NE
ll-bred factory girls She would laugh at
my structures and acknowledge Their truth
All the same | saw she meant 10 dazzle her
American auntS and uncIeS and cousins by
becoming MarchiOneSs as soon as possible.
The closer the matter came to completion
the more Mrs. StauhOpe seemed to rely upon
me. Would l 90 into Calabria and make
sure OF the truth OF the young gentleman 5
words? She asked me this one day. l am
afraid ] was almost rude in reply. l eX-
pressed my willingness to kick the gentle
man out Of the pension" the next time
found him there; but as tor interesting my
self thus far in his suit il was out of the
question.
BE il understood that ere this l had ask ed
Feena to be ny wife and had failed in my
petition. 1t was nothing in consolation
that she said she liked me more than she
liked any other man, and said she would
have married me- gladly if | had ten or
twelve thousand dollars a year. She con-
IeSSeU, /
the confession. that size meant not 10 let her
heart interfere with her life schemes She
proposed TO play a great part in the world !;
money and rank were essentials for her am
billions.
On this understanding left Florence one
hot day. She would not see me 10 say
"gOod-by," but wrote me bilet-doux" at
! o'clock on the night previous, Ia which
she said more than she ought to have said,
considering that by this time it was as good
as settled that she was 10 marry the Mar
cheese.
/ say nothing about the immense interest
our pers0nnarrs" took in this affair. II
was all done in so open a manner that they
could hardly believe in ii. They fancied
that the StanhOpeS and were three shrewd
adventures. beneath whose united plots
the wretched little Italian was TO be ground
to poWder-Or at least his estates were
1t would have amused me at another time
to enjoy the fruits of this miscOnceplIOp.
But. as ii was, naturally did not like 1t
and so | left Florence.
Mrs. StanhOpe saw me off at the station.
She, poor woman, was almost as much of
sufferer as myself AT the shrine of her
daughters coquetTy. She did not believe
in the Marchese, and she did not trust the
Italian nature.
Now that You are going" she said TO
NE, Il shall feel lonely indeed. Goodness
knows what will happen, Feena is so self
wiiled. But you shall hear from me"
Well for two months 1 knocked about In
Sicily, and in that time almost drove Feena
out af my thoughts.
In June i returned 10 England, found let
ters from both the Stanhopes, and learned
that the marriage would take place iu San
Francisco in September. In due course
received a grand, emblaZoned and very
odoriferous sheet OF paper, inviting me to be
present al the wedding.
| did not think it worth while to cross the
| Atlantic in the autumn and then the CONT
nent for the satisfaction of seeing how
lovely Feena could lock as a bride. Ii was
| quite enough that i coerced myself suffi-
every happiness. | considered that page of
my life to be closed forever. But 1t was
not. There is this to be said of life, that it
need never be Oppressively dull. OF course,
| If you fix yourself in a country village and
| forswear metropolitan brightness and stir
it can hardly fail to be dull. But then,
unless you are obliged to do So why do it !?
The, next spring. as usual. found me
| abroad, gradually dropping from Dresden
to the south Of Italy. By May / was in
| Naples. l was happy enough in my own
| way. Feena did not enter my head one da y
! in seven, and then only for an instant.
| Perhaps | wondered how she would look as
a matrOn. 1t was not more than this.
But one morning was glancing at the
| ices in the famous confectioner's shop at
the beginning OF the Toledo, and meditating
| looked, when | heard some one call my
name.
| turned round In the twinkling of an eye
| / should have known that voice among a
million.
! Yes, it was Feena; somewhat altered, but
| still the Feena whom i remembered as the
! absorbing complement of Venice and Flor