“Nor I,” said Patty. “I hope we will find some Americans or English at the hotel.”
They reached Florence about mid-afternoon, and drove directly to their hotel, on the bank of the Arno.
“What a lovely river!” said Patty. “At least it’s clean. The Tiber is so yellow, and so is the Thames. The Seine isn’t much better,—indeed none of them can compare with our own Hudson.”
“But this whole place is beautiful,” said Flo, as they looked from their cab on the trees and gardens of beautiful Florence.
The day was very warm, and there was a glare of sun everywhere, so our travellers were glad to reach their hotel and go right to the apartments awaiting them.
Flo and Patty had communicating rooms, and had soon exchanged their travelling costumes for teagowns and were waiting for the tea which they had ordered sent up.
They peeped out between the slats of their blinds, and saw the river directly below them.
“Isn’t it picturesque?” said Patty. “I love it already. After an hour or so, father says it will be cool and pleasant for a drive, so we’ll see a little of the place this afternoon.”
“Lovely,” said Flo, “but here’s our tea, Patty, so come and drink it.”