Marion smiled good humoredly, and took his hand from his pocket, without producing the bit of silver that the old woman evidently expected.
Two other old women came along, one leaning heavily on a crutch, the other with a heavy woollen shawl over her head in spite of the heat of the day.
"But just think what a fine time they could have with my half franc to spend."
"You will find some more worthy cause, if you need a cause on which to waste your money. There—there—go—go," cried Aunt Caroline to the three old women, who had now come close up to her, mumbling and making signs of hunger.
"Come, Irma, inside the cathedral," and laying her hand on Irma's arm, Aunt Caroline crossed the street, while Uncle Jim and Marion followed: and if the truth be told, as soon as Aunt Caroline's back was turned, the very coin that had been burning Marion's pocket quickly transferred itself to the hand of the most importunate of the old women. This, at least, was Irma's impression, as she looked around before entering the cathedral door, attracted by the rather peculiar striking of a clock. Looking in the direction of the sound she gave an exclamation of surprise that led Aunt Caroline to turn also. There on a building at the corner stood a life size figure of a small man hitting a bell with a hammer, and thus informing the town of the hours and quarter hours without the need of a clock face.
The cool, white interior of the cathedral was a pleasant change from the hot piazza. The pillars were of marble, striped black and white like the outside. The young people admired some of the old frescoes by Fra Angelico and Signorelli, and watched the priest copying the head of Virgil, one of several poets of the future life chosen to decorate one chapel. But when Aunt Caroline drew out her book to sketch some architectural details Irma sighed audibly.
Only Marion, however, heard and understood the sigh.
"Aunt Caroline," he said, "while you are drawing, Irma and I might ramble around the town. The streets are so narrow that there would be no fun driving, and you never care to walk in the sun."