“I shall study Italian before I come again,” she said to Flo; “it isn’t necessary for travelling purposes,—I mean guards and hotel clerks,—but it is if you want to converse with your fellow travellers.”
“Yes,” agreed Flo; “but it’s awfully hard to learn.”
In about an hour Mr. Fairfield returned, and then they all went to the dining-car for dinner. The Italian couple went too, but they did not sit at a table near the Fairfields.
“She’s lovely,” announced Patty. “I call her Signora Orsini, because I feel sure she descended from that noble family.”
“In that case, it would be her husband who was of noble descent,” suggested her father.
“Oh, yes, so it would. Well, it makes no difference. They’re Orsinis. He’s as nice as she is, only he seems a very quiet man. They scarcely talk at all.”
After dinner they returned to the compartment in the other car, and found the Orsinis, as Patty called them, already there. The place had been lighted up, and presented the appearance of a cosy little sitting-room.
“These trains are most pleasantly arranged,” said Mr. Fairfield. “And now I’ll leave you again for a short time, and have an after-dinner smoke, then I’ll come back, and before we know it, the evening will fly by, and we’ll be in Venice.”
“Stay as long as you like,” said Patty. “I feel as if I had lived with Madame Orsini all my life, and I have a feeling she’s fond of me.”
“That’s the beauty of her not being able to understand you,” teased Mr. Fairfield, with a twinkle in his eye.