She touched her glass to the doctor's and Veronika's, and emptied it at an eager draught. Veronika watched her in surprised displeasure, sipping her own wine staidly and decorously. It warmed her very heart to see Paula merry, only she thought it unbecoming to behave in the presence of strangers as if one were a person of no importance.
Her good-humor returned as soon as the doctor and the padrona had excused themselves. When they were alone she seized Paula unceremoniously by the wrists and forced her back into an arm-chair; then lifted her feet, and with much decision placed them upon a footstool. "Now you don't stir," she said, shaking her finger in Paula's face.
"But, cousin, it is so different," pleaded Paula. "I feel no more as I do at home, than this mild, heavenly air is like our joyless atmosphere. Are your eyes open, Cousin Veronika? Do you perceive the things about you—or is it all a dream of my own? It seemed to me as we drove from the station that we had arrived in an enchanted place."
"It's just a city," murmured Veronika.
"Those sombre palaces we passed, how they make the spring-time in the sky above them more lightsome, more warm! And those flowers banked up for sale against that black stone wall, could you see what they were? They seemed to me all new sorts—marvellous. Have you noticed how happy every one looks in Italy, even the beggars sitting in the sun? And what beautiful faces one sees—"
She stopped and mused, gazing ahead in silence for a few moments; then went on aloud: "Yes—beautiful faces, like pictures. Did you see the young man whom we met on the stairs? Not? Veronika, for what have you eyes? The light just there was a little dim, but I saw him perfectly. I passed him slowly on purpose—he leaned against the wall to let us go by him. He had wavy hair, longer than is usual, falling over his forehead, and soft brown eyes like an animal's. I am sure one sees such eyes only in Italy, half asleep, yet deeply intelligent, that when you look in them you think a thousand things—"
"You certainly took in a great deal at a glance," said Veronika.
"Oh, I could tell you much else," laughed Paula; "beside that he wore a pink in his button-hole and carried a roll of music."
"Veronika," she said, after a pause, jumping up from her chair and walking about excitedly as before, "we must be very happy here. We must begin at once. Think how much time we have lost—all our years up to this day. Now we must really enjoy ourselves, live—love!" she added, recklessly, with light in her eyes.