“When I am in a gondola, reverend sir, there is no room left for any more passengers.”
So saying, I give forty more soldi to the gondoliers, who, highly pleased with my generosity, thank me and call me excellency. The good priest, accepting that title as truly belonging to me, entreats my pardon for not having addressed me as such.
“I am not a Venetian nobleman, reverend sir, and I have no right to the title of Excellenza.”
“Ah!” says the young lady, “I am very glad of it.”
“Why so, signora?”
“Because when I find myself near a nobleman I am afraid. But I suppose that you are an illustrissimo.”
“Not even that, signora; I am only an advocate’s clerk.”
“So much the better, for I like to be in the company of persons who do not think themselves above me. My father was a farmer, brother of my uncle here, rector of P——, where I was born and bred. As I am an only daughter I inherited my father’s property after his death, and I shall likewise be heiress to my mother, who has been ill a long time and cannot live much longer, which causes me a great deal of sorrow; but it is the doctor who says it. Now, to return to my subject, I do not suppose that there is much difference between an advocate’s clerk and the daughter of a rich farmer. I only say so for the sake of saying something, for I know very well that, in travelling, one must accept all sorts of companions: is it not so, uncle?”
“Yes, my dear Christine, and as a proof you see that this gentleman has accepted our company without knowing who or what we are.”
“But do you think I would have come if I had not been attracted by the beauty of your lovely niece?”