The big man went away, and Patty tumbled back to bed, murmuring:
“Huh, to be waked up and bothered, and then not see a brigand after all! I do think the customs men might at least wear red silk sashes. They’d be so much more picturesque. What a queer time for him to come to see about the trunks.”
“I believe they always come when we cross the border,” said Nan, sleepily. “Good-night.”
“Good-night,” said Patty.
CHAPTER VI
THE GRANDEUR THAT WAS ROME
IT was very early in the morning when the train pulled into the station at Rome. Patty had been up and dressed for some time, watching from the window the strange views and novel sights.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Fairfield, and Patty hurried from the train in her eager interest to see the real Rome outside of a map or guidebook.
“Well!” she said, as she found herself in a great station, not so very unlike railroad stations in other countries, “Well! if you call this picturesque, I don’t!”
“Nothing can be picturesque when you’re hungry,” said Nan, “and I’m going to get my breakfast before I express my opinion of the Eternal City.”