neglected to do. They insulted him. They made caricatures of
him. They spread scandalous reports about him. Such is the way of
the world.

CHAPTER XLIX.

CROSSING INTO THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY.--CONSTERNATION OF THE CUSTOM-HOUSE
OFFICERS.

The journey was a pleasant one. The Spaniards were an agreeable
addition to the party in the estimation of others than Buttons.
The Senator devoted himself particularly to the elder sister. Indeed,
his acquaintance with _La Cica_, as he afterward confessed, had given
him a taste for foreign ladies. He carried on little conversations
with the Senorita in broken English. The Senorita's English was
pretty, but not very idiomatic. The Senator imitated her English
remarkably well, and no doubt did it out of compliment. He also
astonished the company by speaking at the very top of a voice whose
ordinary tone was far stronger than common.

[Illustration: Buttons In Bliss.]

The journey from Bologna to Ferrara was not diversified by any
incident. Buttons was rapidly regaining his gayety and his strength.
He wore his arm in a sling, it is true, but thought it better to have
a broken arm with the Senorita than a sound one without her. It must
be confessed, however, that his happiness was visible not so much in
lively conversation as in his flushed cheek, glistening eye, and
general air of ecstasy. Moreover, Ida could not speak English much--a
conversation in that language was difficult, and they would not be
so rude to the Senator as to talk Spanish in his presence. The
consequence was that the conversation flagged, and the Senator was by
far the most talkative member of the company, and laid out all his
strength in broken English.

Ferrara was reached at last, and they put up at a hotel which boasted
of having entertained in its day any quantity of kings, emperors, and
nobles of every European nation. It is an astonishing town. Vast
squares, all desolate; great cathedrals, empty; proud palaces,
neglected and ruinous; broad streets, grass-grown and empty; long
rows of houses, without inhabitants; it presents the spectacle of a
city dying without hope of recovery. The Senator walked through every
street in Ferrara, looked carelessly at Tasso's dungeon, and seemed to
feel relieved when they left the city.

On arriving at the Po. which forms the boundary between this district
and Venetia, they underwent some examination from the authorities,
but crossed without accident. But on