She said nothing, staring blindly.
"Go to bed, Goneril!" cried Miss Prunty in a voice of thunder.
* * * * *
CHAPTER IV.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER.
A few mornings after these events the postman brought a letter for
Goneril. This was such a rare occurrence that she blushed rose red at
the very sight of it, and had to walk up and down the terrace several
times before she felt calm enough to read it. Then she went upstairs and
knocked at the door of Madame Petrucci's room.
"Come in, little bird."
The old lady, in pink merino and curl-papers, opened the door. Goneril
held up her letter.
"My cousin Jack is coming to Florence, and he is going to walk over to
see me this afternoon. And may he stay to dinner, cara signora?"
"Why, of course, Gonerilla. I am charmed!"
Goneril kissed the old lady, and danced downstairs brimming over with
delight.
Later in the morning Signor Graziano called.
"Will you come out with me, Mees Goneril," he said; "on my land the
earliest vintage begins to-day."
"Oh, how nice!" she cried.
"Come, then," said the signorino, smiling.
"Oh, I can't come to-day, because of Jack."
"Jack?"
"My cousin: he may come any time."
"Your cousin?" the signorino frowned a little. "Ah, you English," he
said, "you consider all your cousins brothers and sisters!"
Goneril laughed.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262