h he had always been generous
to her,--had tried to give her such small pleasures as his means
and habits would permit. She had a likeness of him with her, she
said,--perhaps I might like to see it. She dived into her travelling-bag
as she spoke, and produced from thence a full-length photograph of a
tall, well-built gentleman of sixty or thereabouts, whose gray hair,
black moustache, and intent, frowning gaze made up an ensemble more
striking than attractive.

"Is he not handsome--poor papa?" she asked.

I said the marchese was certainly a very fine-looking man, and inwardly
thanked my stars that he was safely at Padua; for looking at the breadth
of his chest, the length of his arm, and the somewhat forbidding cast of
his features, I could not help perceiving that "poor papa" was precisely
one of those persons with whom a prudent man prefers to keep friends
than to quarrel.

And so, by the time that we reached Mestre, we had become quite friendly
and intimate, and had half forgotten, I think, the absurd relation in
which we stood toward each other. We had rather an awkward moment
when we left the boat and entered our travelling-carriage; for I need
scarcely say that both the boatmen and the grinning vetturino took me
for the bridegroom whose place I temporarily occupied, and they were
pleased to be facetious in a manner which was very embarrassing to me,
but which I could not very well check. Moreover, I felt compelled so
far to sustain my assumed character as to be specially generous in the
manner of a _buona mano_ to those four jolly watermen, and for the first
few miles of our drive I could not help remembering this circumstance
with some regret, and wondering whether it would occur to Von Rosenau to
reimburse me.

Probably our coachman thought that, having a runaway couple to drive,
he ought to make some pretence, at least, of fearing pursuit; for he set
off at such a furious pace that our four half-starved horses were
soon beat, and we had to perform the remainder of the long, hot, dusty
journey at a foot's pace. I have forgotten how we made the time pass. I
think we slept a good deal. I know we were both very tired and a
trifle cross when in the evening we reached Longarone, a small,
poverty-stricken village, on the verge of that dolomite region which, in
these latter days, has become so frequented by summer tourists.

Tourists usually leave in their wake some of the advantages as well as
the drawbacks of c