My own statement on the subject. Milburd has puzzled me by saying it's going to rain. Is it? If it isn't, nothing I should enjoy more than going to Church. Wouldn't miss it on any account, except of course out of consideration for one's health.
Happy Thought.—I don't feel very well this morning, and damp feet might be followed by the most serious results.
Miss Adelaide and Miss Bella are going. Their chaperonship this morning devolves upon Mrs. Frimmely, as Madame and the Signor are Catholics, and have been to mass, early in the morning, at St. Romauldi's Missionary College, near here. Madame is very strict, and the Signor is not partial to early rising. The College Service being at half-past eight in the morning, they have to rise at seven on Sundays, and then there is a drive of four miles. The following dialogue is overheard:
Time, 7.15 A.M. Scene, Signor and Madame's room. Madame is up and dressing rapidly. The Signor is still under the bedclothes.
Madame (severely). Mr. Regniati.
The Signor (pretending extra sleepiness). My dear! (He won't open his eyes.)
Madame. It is exactly a quarter past seven.
The Signor (snuggling down into the pillow). I vill not be two me-neets. (Disappears under bedclothes.)
Madame (before the looking-glass, with her head bent well forward, her hands behind her back, lacing herself into determination). Get up, Mr. Regniati. (No sign of life in the bed.) Don't pretend to have gone to sleep again. (Not a movement.) I know you haven't. I shan't wait for you when I'm once dressed. It's twenty-five minutes. (Sharply.) Do you hear, Mr. Regniati?
The Signor (re-appearing as far as the tip of his nose. Both eyes blinking). My dear—oh! (as if in sudden agony. Then plaintively) I 'ave such a pain in my nose.