POLLY TO A. D.

_Bayreuth, July._

What a heavenly night we had in Venice out in that gondola when we stuck on the sand-bar and didn't care at all, we were so happy. It got later and later and the moon went down and not until the tide rose in the early morning did we float away. When we arrived at the hotel, oh, but wasn't Aunt angry? She didn't believe one word we said! I don't think she believes our story even now! She suddenly declared tickets had been bought for the Wagner operas and that we must start the next day. I never heard of those tickets before! Evidently she still wants me to marry the Prince and does not approve of my flirting with you.

Even so, I am going to be good to you, for you were good to me in Venice. I feel pretty blue now that those happy days are gone, and I wouldn't part with a memory,--from the merry-go-round at the Lido to the sand-bar!

But I shall never hear the end of that evening. And I know that's why Aunt hurried us all to Bayreuth. Checkers has been making up naughty verses about the sand-bar, but I shan't repeat them to you! I doze off at night thinking about the gondola, the serenades, the moon, the funny old boatman who was so sleepy,--it was all like a bit out of fairyland, my fairyland. And now I have waked up and found myself in a bustling little German town, my fairyland vanished, and my fairy prince gone!

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, July._

As we glided into the station yesterday (the last time, I had gone to the station with you!) shoals of little urchins were swimming in the water and tumbling in such comical ways that even Gilet couldn't retain his gravity and burst out laughing as the small rascals went splashing and diving into the ca.n.a.l. Too soon we reached the station, too soon the train ran out across the trestles, and too soon Venice faded in the offing.

Friends came to meet me (the Consul General was the first to greet me in Rome this morning), and all must think yours truly mad or in love, for I am so excited and enthusiastic over my holiday. Do you know, it is just a week since we came back from the Lido together, skirting the lovely panorama of the city rising from the sea, when we had so much to say to each other and a great happiness settled down upon me.

Write to me soon, dear, and tell me what you enjoyed most in Venice.

POLLY TO A. D.

_Bayreuth, July._

Such a heavenly day! Aunt and I are sitting on the balcony and resting. The opera begins tomorrow. Most of the people are in church and the street is quite quiet, and empty save for a few pretty peasant girls in gay colors walking the streets. Lots of things have happened since I last wrote; we drove over to a fair in a little town yesterday which was very amusing,--cows and pigs, boots, pipes, and all kinds of things for sale. Then we went into a little inn and had beer and danced with the peasants. It was lively, but rather different from my last ball at the American Emba.s.sy after the big dinner served on silver and gold plates, and dancing with "Dips" and princes.

Aunt, my dear old cart-horse, tired me all out in Venice. She instructed me properly like a well-brought-up American girl, and took me about sightseeing with the Red Book in her hand, every minute you were not there, into all the old churches until I feel I never want to go to a sanctuary again.

You ask me what I liked best in Venice. Well! After you, sir, perhaps the marvelous bronze horses. I never got tired of looking at them, the most perfect ones in the world, and I adore horses. Did you know they were first known to have crowned one of the triumphal arches in Rome?

They journeyed to Constantinople in the time of Constantine for the Hippodrome, but Doge Enrico Dandolo brought them back to Venice when he conquered Constantinople in 1204. But this was not all. Napoleon wished them for his Arch in the Place du Carrousel and not until 1815 were they returned to San Marco by Francis I of Austria, to whose portion Venice fell in the settlement. Now can you say the humming-bird has not been sucking wisdom instead of sugar from the flowers of Venice! And next best, perhaps, I enjoyed the paintings, especially the auburn-haired Tintorettos, because Aunt too, has just such beautiful hair.

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, July._

Jonkheer Jan has had a house warming in his new apartment in the top of the huge Falconieri Palace, hanging high above the Tiber, with the Farnesina opposite and the Janiculum, and the city far below. He has a sunny terrace with the plants already climbing up a trellis and a little set of rooms which he is beginning to furnish. Today several congenial souls met up there for tea and music, and then looked out over the city and the river which lay mapped out below us. He was quite devoted to our blue-eyed Sybil.

I went yesterday to the Piazza del Quirinale to see the royal processions come out of the palace and had a fine coign of vantage.

The fanfare blew and the soldiers presented arms, the cortege issued out beneath the gate and slowly moved across the square and round the corner out of sight. It was the day when the new Parliament was to be inaugurated and the King and Queen were to go in state to open the session, and the Amba.s.sadors and Ministers had to attend in uniform.

There were outriders and cuira.s.siers and great gilded carriages of state with lacqueys hanging on behind, and they made a fine show. The music was gay and joyous, and the sun was shining brightly, but within an hour it was raining in torrents and the return procession was through a downpour. But by that time I had sought the protection which the Emba.s.sy grants and was hard at work.

An American Admiral has come to Rome for a few days, leaving his flagship at Naples. He wishes to be presented to the King and Queen and so among other things I am busy about that. Last evening I went over to see him and took him and his flag lieutenant, with whom I at once struck up a great friendship, to Count L.'s reception in his palace which lies low beneath the embankment of the river. Through the courtyard we went, and up the stairway, into the suffocating rooms, with little knicknacks about by the dozen, all in a mad confusion. I tried to make the officers enjoy themselves and introduced them to some girls. When it became too stiflingly crowded, I steered them away, added dear old Rossi with his genial smile to the party, and we went to a birreria in the Capo le Case and had some wiener wursts and beer; while we were there the Prince came in and the German Counsellor of Emba.s.sy, and we all sat together some time. Then through the moonlit streets we drove home.

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, July._

What, mademoiselle, do you think was one of the things which happened after my return here from Venice? The Prince dropped in to see me, and running after him came a messenger who handed him a letter--a letter from you, my lady!--and I can tell you that although I was happy to see your handwriting, it made me jump a bit and feel queer to think it was from you and to him, and not to me. I had to sit tight for a little while and say nothing.

But later came the missive I had looked for, the letter for _me_, dear Pollykins, and I can tell you I read it eagerly and tried to make it longer by going over it again. But no matter how many times I read it, it is too short. Your letters will never be long enough, though they be miles in length!

The Prince suggested an expedition--an ill-fated one--to Asturia.

Claiming to know the road, he captained it for a while. The affair proved full of incident. The carriage got stalled in a bog, and one of the horses literally pulled himself out of the rotten old harness. My handkerchief and other parts of my attire were used to repair the break. The Prince, in the middle of it all, calmly said he was tired of the whole thing. So off he walked, leaving poor Charlton and me to our fate.

I had almost to lift the team out of the frightful place we sank into, and to keep encouraging the horses. Meanwhile, the winds from the Pontine Marshes came blowing over toward us, and even some of the flowers we picked were said by a pa.s.sing fisherman to be very poisonous. The sun was going down and finally it set, and the interminable sands were still before us. I wrapped up in a newspaper to keep warm, making a hole in a copy of the _Daily Chronicle_, and putting my head through and wearing it like a cape, for I didn't want to be chilled after the terrific efforts of the afternoon. Finally we reached home.

But the extraordinary thing is that Boris didn't seem to be a bit ashamed of his desertion, after having persuaded us off the road because he "knew a short cut," and leaving us in that unspeakable pickle. He only chuckled over it. I half believe it was the reception of your letter that made him so unaccountable. I can't think he was playing a trick on me. Anyway, I have begun to dislike him.

Bayreuth I am sure you are enjoying. I always think over my visits there with great pleasure. Years afterward you will find yourself vividly remembering that wonderful stage setting, and the sound of that grand elevating music, rising, falling, in those glorious harmonies. It will be unforgettable.

POLLY TO A. D.

_Bayreuth, July._

I have only a minute to write, as I must hurry and read "Siegfried,"

which is to be given this afternoon. Yesterday it was "The Valkyrie,"

which seemed endless,--I had seen it before, in Paris. But "The Rhinegold" was simply beautiful. I am enjoying every minute of my stay and only wish you could be here, too.

What a funny world this is! Speaking of Princes and one Prince in particular, I will give you a little wish: "May the devil cut the toes of all your foes, that you may know them by their limping!" Where do you suppose we are going next? Not into a bog with Boris, you may be sure. I don't believe you can guess. Well! We start off tomorrow and go to Baden Baden, then to the Hague, then England, end up in Paris.

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, July._

It is a fete day in Rome, and a grand review of the troops was held by the King. About half-past six the regimental bands began to pa.s.s up the Via Venti Settembre. I enjoyed the lively airs which I could faintly hear from far away, growing louder and louder till under my very window there was a great burst of melody, mingled with the swash of marching feet, which went by and became fainter in the distance again. The review was in the Piazza dell'Indipendenza and a large holiday crowd had gathered there. The King came with a big staff, the Queen in semi-state, in a carriage with _corazzieri_. There were not many troops, but I always like to see the _carabinieri_ with their three-cornered hats and tail coats and crossed belts. The _bersaglieri_, too, are amusing and exciting, going on the run, trailing their guns, with their fluttering c.o.c.k-feather hats, and their fanfare in front tooting a gay quickstep.

The Corso, also, was crowded with a procession of bare-headed _contadini_ in carriages with banners, the prizes won lately at the festival of the _Divina Amore_. The cathedrals were thronged, the doors hung with crimson and gold curtains, and within, hundreds of candles burning. Little girls in their confirmation dresses walked in procession, the proud parents following. It was all really very gay.

The Amba.s.sador who has been away the past week, returned, and we made a long excursion to Bracciano, the small town on a rock jutting into the lake. The great castle, once the stronghold of the Orsini, but now belonging to Prince Odescalchi, rises high above the village.

We had brought our luncheon and champagne, and had it served in the dining hall of the chateau. It was a very jolly luncheon and a good one. Then, after a rest, we climbed over the castello, up into the battlements and towers, and looked down at the vineyards and the lake far below us, and out over the chestnut-wooded mountains which stretch away to the northward. Although Prince Odescalchi pa.s.ses some time here, and although he is very rich, yet the halls and courtyards are crumbling into ruins.