“Oh, go along! If she could talk to me, and understand me, she’d love me so she’d want to adopt me.”
“She can’t have you!” cried Mr. Fairfield, in mock alarm. “Don’t come to so much of an understanding as that!”
“No, I won’t. I’m not ready to leave you yet. Now, go, Daddy, and have a calm, pleasant smoke with yourself.”
“Madame Orsini” bowed and smiled, and wagged her head protectingly at the girls, as Mr. Fairfield went away.
“Now,” said Patty, “I just must see where we are at. I have a fine railroad map of Italy, and I’m going to investigate it.”
She spread the map out before her and she and Flo traced their route.
“You see,” said Patty, “here’s Florence; we left that and followed this mark to Pistoja; I remember we passed through there while we were at dinner. It’s too dark now to see the names of the places, but Bologna is the next stop, and from there we go straight along this line to Venice. Oh, here we are at Bologna.”
The train stopped and waited quite a time in the station. Patty and Flo were greatly interested in looking from their windows at the bustling crowd on the platform. It was brightly lighted, and travellers were hurrying about, jostled now and then by vendors with trays or push-carts.
“Stop that boy,” cried Patty, “let’s buy some grapes.”