g line?"

"O, no, pictures," cried Edith.

"That is as you say," Mae demurely agreed. "Pictures and books for you
two at any rate."

"And churches."

"For your mother, yes, and beer-gardens for Eric, and amphitheatres and
battle fields for Mr. Mann."

"And for yourself?"

"The blue, blue bay of Naples, a grove of oranges, moonlight and a boat
if it please you."

"By the way," suggested Albert, "about our plans; we really should begin
to agitate the matter at once."

"Yes, to do our fighting on shipboard. Let us agree to hoist the white
flag the day we sight land, else we shall settle down into a regular War
of the Roses and never decide," laughed Norman.

"As there are six minds," continued Albert, "there will have to be some
giving up."

"Why do you look at me?" enquired Mae. "I am the very most unselfish
person in the world. I'll settle down anywhere for the winter, provided
only that it is not in Rome."

"But that is the very place," cried Edith, and Albert, and Mrs. Jerrold
from her camp-chair.

"O, how dreadful! The only way to prevent it will be for us to stand
firm, boys, and make it a tie."

"But Norman is especially eager to go to Rome," said Edith, "and that
makes us four strong at once in favor of that city."

"But is not Rome a fearful mixture of dead Caesar's bones and dirty
beggars? And mustn't one carry hundreds of dates at one's finger-tips to
appreciate this, and that, and the other? Is it not all tremendously and
overwhelmingly historical, and don't you have to keep exerting your mind
and thinking and remembering? I would rather go down to Southern Italy
and look at lazzaroni lie on stone walls, in red cloaks, as they do in
pictures, and not be obliged to topple off the common Italian to pile
the gray stone with old memories of some great dead man. Everything is
ghostly in Rome. Now, there must be some excitement in Southern Italy.
There's Vesuvius, and she isn't dead--like Nero--but a living demon,
that may erupt any night, and give you a little red grave by the sea for
your share."

"She's not nearly through yet," laughed Edith, as Mae paused for breath.

"I'm only afraid," said Mae, "that after I had been down there a week,
I should forget English, buy a contadina costume, marry a child of the
sun, and run away from this big world with its puzzles and lessons,
and rights and wrongs. Imagine me in my doorway as you passed in your
travelling carriage, hot and tired on your way--s