“I love Naples!” she said, finally. “Whoever jumped on it was all wrong.”
“People don’t jump on things in Italy,” said her father, reprovingly.
“No, they’re too lazy to jump,” agreed Patty. “What hotel are we going to, Father?”
“To the Palace Hotel,—up on the Cliffs.”
“They’re all palace hotels in Italy, aren’t they? Is that it, ’way up in the sky? How ever did it perch itself up on that high place?”
“Spread its wings and flew up there,” said her father.
“I think it went up there to get a good view of the bay,” said Nan.
“The Bay of Naples!” cried Patty, standing up in the cab to look behind her. “I’ve seen it on postcards, and it’s almost as blue, really. Oh, people! Isn’t it great!”
“Sit down, Patty, you’ll break your neck.”
“Not in this gently moving chaise. Oh, we’re climbing this great hill. See how the road winds, and how the cliffs——”