the _Venezia_, and Uncle Dan
looked up to a certain high balcony, whence his coming was hailed by a
lively flutter of handkerchiefs.
"_Ecco_, my nieces!" he remarked to Vittorio, with ill-suppressed pride
of ownership; a claim, be it observed, which the two Pollys would have
been inclined to dispute; since, according to their own faith and
practice, it was they who owned Uncle Dan!
III
A Pair of Pollys
Five minutes later Uncle Dan and his two Pollys were once more afloat, a
beatific company. Their graceful craft dipped and courtesied to the
stroke of the oar as it glided swiftly with the out-going tide, past the
gilt ball of the custom-house, past the royal gardens and the Piazzetta
and the Doge's Palace, past the red tower of San Giorgio, on and on, far
out upon the wide lagoons. Pauline, sitting beside her uncle among the
cushions of state, was so absorbed in the mere joy of this gliding,
rhythmic motion, that she scarcely paid due deference to the wonders of
the Piazzetta, past which they fared so swiftly. Yes; there were the
famous pillars of Saint and Lion, and there, beyond the Ducal Palace,
was a passing glimpse of San Marco. It was as it should be, this
delightful verification of travellers' tales; she could afford to hold
all that in reserve. But just to-day, just at this moment, she only
wanted to watch the slender prow, skimming the wonderful opaline waters,
drawing ever nearer to those mystic islands floating over yonder like a
dream within a dream. She wondered vaguely at May's vivid alertness; for
her sister, claiming the privilege of youth, was enjoying the freedom of
the gondola, perching here and there as her fancy prompted, in the ample
forward space, that nothing might escape her eager, critical attention.
"How queer of them to have put those two windows out of line!" May
exclaimed, fixing upon the water-front of the Ducal Palace a glance of
disapproval beneath which the stately old pile blushed rosy red. At
least it was at that moment that she first observed the pinkness of its
complexion. "But it's a lovely colour," she hastened to admit; "and
those columns in the second story are perfectly dear."
"They have been a good deal admired," Uncle Dan observed dryly, yet with
a friendly twinkle that flickered over into the crow's-feet which were
such an important feature of his equipment as uncle. And May, nothing
daunted, pursued her own train of thought with unflagging spirit.
"Vi
|