Rosina burst out laughing.
“Molly,” she gasped, “imagine you confined to only one man, and he your lord and master!”
“I couldn’t possibly imagine it, and I make it a point to never go in for anything that I can’t imagine. But, my dear, I must tell you the great news. Being engaged is an old habit with me; but” (she put her hand to her throat and felt within her high stock) “you must know that I am now actually in love, for the first time in my life, too.”
“Oh, Molly, since when?”
“Three weeks. Wait till I fish up my locket and you shall see him. Handsome is nowhere! And our meeting was so romantic. I was lying on the bottom of a boat waiting to be paddled into the Blue Grotto, and at the last minute a stranger came, and they laid him down at my feet. When we got into the grotto, of course we stood up; and it was lucky we did, for we fell in love directly, and of course we couldn’t have fallen unless we were standing.”
“Oh, Molly, who is he? do show me the picture.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, but I think the clasp has hooked on to Captain Douglas’ locket,—you remember Captain Douglas!—I can’t pull it anyway. Never mind, I’ll show you to-night.”
“English, no; he’s Italian. Such eyes you never saw. They’re warmer than white porcelain tile stoves in early autumn. And he belongs to the Queen-mother’s regiment, and wears the most resplendent uniform and a gray cape that he just carelessly sweeps across his chest and up over the other shoulder—ah!”
Molly stopped to draw a deep breath and sigh.