"If we are to reach Rome at sunset, some one must lend a hand at the wheel," said the chauffeur, as the children finished eating their lunch. "There is not a moment to lose, and I, also, am hungry."
Rafael sprang at once to his side. He had longed to drive the automobile from the very moment they began the journey from Florence, and had often sat on the seat beside the chauffeur, watching him, and asking him questions about his work.
There followed a glorious afternoon for the boy. He was a ready pupil, the roads were good, and the friendly chauffeur a careful teacher.
They passed peasant women in gay bodices, with folded handkerchiefs on their heads and long earrings in their ears, carrying baskets of fruit on their arms. They passed peasant men driving donkeys or oxen, who smiled at them from under hats decorated with pompons of colored paper and tinsel. Geese ran out to hiss at them as they flew by, and hens and chickens fluttered out of their way; but Rafael had eyes only for the road.
They passed lemon groves and rose-gardens, and Edith was grieved because Rafael could not enjoy with her every new and strange sight.
"I wanted you to tell me more about the Roman ruins," she said.
But the boy tossed a merry smile back at her for answer. "We will speak more about those things when we are in Rome," he said. "I can think of nothing now but flying," and he bent his eyes again to the road.
At last they began the descent of a lofty hill, and the car glided into the road which is the old Flaminian Way, leading directly to the city.
Edith felt the thrill which always stirs the heart when one first draws near to the Eternal City. She leaned forward and said to the chauffeur, "How do you feel, to be riding toward Rome?"
For answer the man pointed to the sun, which was low in the western sky. "There is only another hour of sunlight," he said with a smile.