“Good girl, Nan!” said Mr. Fairfield, approvingly. “And I fancy Patty, too, is ready for some Roman breakfast food.”
“I am hungry,” said Patty, “but I’m so surprised at this place! Why!” she went on, as they emerged into the great square in front of the station, “look at the trolley-cars! It’s just like New York!”
“You needn’t get in a trolley-car,” said Mr. Fairfield, laughing at Patty’s dismayed expression; “here’s the omnibus that’s to take us to our hotel. Hop in.”
“Pooh! an omnibus!” said Patty, “that isn’t appropriate to Rome, either!”
“I know what you want to ride in,” said her father. “One of those Roman chariots drawn by four horses, that they race round the ring in, at the circus.”
“Those rattlety-bang things?” said Patty, laughing at the recollection. “Yes, they would be all right, only there’s so much danger of spilling out behind.”
But she climbed into the omnibus with the others and in less than five minutes they were round the corner, and stopping at their own hotel. Mr. Fairfield had selected the Quirinal, as a comfortable and convenient home for them, and when Patty went in, and saw the handsomely appointed halls and picturesque winter-garden, she said, “This is better than trolley-cars, but it isn’t so very Roman, after all.”
“You may as well get rid of your ideas of ancient Rome,” said Mr. Fairfield. “There is a little of that left, but most of the Rome you’ll have to do with is decidedly twentieth century, and very much up-to-date.”
“I believe you!” said Patty, as she noticed the fashionably attired ladies about, and the modern appliances everywhere.