“Indeed, I shall not hold my tongue,” said the step-daughter. Poor Greene! He had lost more than his box within the last twelve months; for, as I had learned in that whispered conversation over the tea-table with Sophonisba; this was in reality her papa’s marriage trip.
Another day was now gone, and we all went to bed. Had I not been very foolish I should have had myself called at five in the morning, and have gone away by the early boat, leaving my ten napoleons behind me. But, unfortunately, Sophonisba had exacted a promise from me that I would not do this, and thus all chance of spending a day or two in Venice was lost to me. Moreover, I was thoroughly fatigued, and almost glad of any excuse which would allow me to lie in bed on the following morning. I did lie in bed till nine o’clock, and then found the Greenes at breakfast.
“Let us go and look at the Serbelloni Gardens,” said I, as soon as the silent meal was over; “or take a boat over to the Sommariva Villa.”
“I should like it so much,” said Sophonisba.
“We will do nothing of the kind till I have found my property,” said Mrs. Greene. “Mr. Robinson, what arrangement did you make yesterday with the police at Como?”
“The police at Como?” I said. “I did not go to the police.”
“Not go to the police? And do you mean to say that I am to be robbed of my jewels and no efforts made for redress? Is there no such thing as a constable in this wretched country? Mr. Greene, I do insist upon it that you at once go to the nearest British consul.”
“I suppose I had better write home for money,” said he.
“And do you mean to say that you haven’t written yet?” said I, probably with some acrimony in my voice.
“You needn’t scold papa,” said Sophonisba.