IX
TU ES PETRUS
Via Sistina, April 7th.
A grand and elaborate Gregorian ceremonial is to be held in St. Peter's on Monday, the eleventh, and, as you may imagine, tout le monde, the small world as well as the great, is rushing after tickets. We were able to secure the white entrance cards from our banker on the Piazza di Spagna, with which we were quite satisfied until Miss Dean, the charming Irish lady who sits next to me at the table d'hôte, showed me a yellow biglietto, which assures her a seat in the tribunes. Since then we have been filled with envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. We did not at all understand the difference between the white ingresso cards and the yellow until she explained it, with a delicious rolling of the r in ingresso such as even Angela, with all her aptitude for mimicking, is unable to attain. The white tickets simply give one an entrée to the church, the yellow, which come only to the favored few, are for seats in the tribunes. Recalling Madame Waddington's description of her own sufferings and those of the other diplomatic ladies at the coronation of the Czar Alexander III., we earnestly hope that we may be so fortunate as to have seats in one of the tribunes.
Ludovico, who has been rushing hither and thither for several days, trying to secure tickets for us through his godfather, who is one of the Pope's chamberlains, came in this evening, his face flushed with the joy of victory. I knew that he had secured the coveted biglietti, as soon as I saw him. There was, however, a shade of embarrassment in his manner which I could not quite understand. The reason became evident when Ludovico pulled two tickets, instead of three, out of his pocket, explaining with much hesitation that it was impossible to get more than two even from his official godfather, so great was the demand. We all three made haste to say, with proper politeness, that it was a great deal to have two tickets for such an occasion and to ask where was his own; to which he replied that there were no places in the tribunes for men. Did we not see that printed on the biglietti? He would go, of course, and stand about, or secure a perch on one of the great columns.
Although we were perfectly civil in our expressions to Ludovico, and, I trust, sufficiently grateful for a favor to which we could lay no possible claim, we were wondering how we could make two tickets answer for three women, all equally anxious to see the great ceremonies. Unlike the dame who was expected to fry her ten fish in nine separate pans at the same moment, we were unwilling "to give it up," and so continued to discuss the problem after we went to our rooms that night. Zelphine and I said most decidedly that Angela should go, at which she opened her eyes wide and asked why, adding, "I was always told that the older children should go everywhere and the younger ones stay at home, on the same principle as the helping at table. Being one of the older children, this has always seemed to me a perfectly fair arrangement, and I have never doubted the propriety of having my younger brothers eat the drumsticks."
"In the first place," said Zelphine, in her most judicial manner, "as you are so much younger, you will probably live longer to tell the tale."
"I don't think that is much of an argument," replied Angela stoutly. "The young occasionally die, and you are neither of you very aged, and you are both much giddier and more frivolous than I. Indeed, I sometimes wonder——"
You will never know the cause of Angela's wonder, because I interrupted her:
"After all, don't you think we had better consider Ludovico in this matter? Is it likely that he would travel all over Rome for days to get tickets for two old-er women?" I started to say "old," but I saw Zelphine wince, and so compromised on "older." "It is quite natural that a youth like Ludovico should wish to please the young lady of the party, and I must confess that although he handed the tickets to me, he looked at Angela for a smile of thanks, which she never vouchsafed him."