would pretend that this demonstration had no effect upon her heart, that
she'd seen a dozen pigeons within an hour handsomer than he; but the
instant a rival belle chanced (only it wasn't chance really) to hop that
way and offer outrageous inducements to flirtation, she decided that,
after all, he was worth having--and, alas! sometimes decided too late.

That same afternoon Mr. Barrymore took me to the little church of San
Giorgio degli Schiavoni to see the exquisite Carpaccios, because he was
of opinion that Aunt Kathryn and Beechy would prefer to go shopping.
Yet, after all, who should appear there but Beechy and Sir Ralph!

Beechy thought the dragon a delightful beast, with a remarkable eye for
the picturesque, judging from the way in which he had arranged the
remains of his victims; and she was sorry for him, dragged into the
market-place, so pitifully shrunken, beaten, and mortified was he. She
wanted to live in all the mediaeval castles of the picture-backgrounds,
and was of opinion that the basilisk's real intentions had been
misunderstood by the general public of his day. "I should love to have
such a comic, trotty beast to lead about in Central Park," said she.
"Why the octopi that the people cook and sell in the streets here now,
are ever so much horrider. One might run away from them, if you like.
Loathsome creatures! I do draw the line at an animal whose face you
can't tell from its--er--waist. And only think of _eating_ them! I'd a
good deal rather eat a basilisk."

Beechy was also convinced--before she crossed the Bridge of Sighs--that
many people, especially Americans, would pay large sums or even commit
crimes, in order to be put in prison at Venice. "Such a lovely
situation," she argued, "and lots of historical associations too." But
afterwards, when she had seen where Marino Faliero lay, and the young
Foscari, she was inclined to change her mind. "Still," she said, "it
would be an experience; and if you couldn't afford to stop at a hotel,
it might be worth trying, if you didn't have to do anything very bad,
and were sure of getting a cell on the canal."

Neither Beechy nor Aunt Kathryn cared much for the churches or the
pictures, so they and Sir Ralph bargained for Venetian point or the lace
of Burano, or went to the glass makers', or had tea at the Lido with the
Corraminis, while Mr. Barrymore took me to the Frari, the Miracoli, and
other churches that he loved best, or wandered with me among the