Cherished little Hummingbird,
I wish to know you better—you who throw me the red rose the color of your lips when I so wickedly follow you home. Your skin it resemble the pure white snow upon the steppes of Siberia, your hair the golden doubloons found in the depth of the Spanish Main, and your blue eyes the fairy sea on which we met. But when I draw near to catch you on that boat Cleopatra (has her spirit entered your soul to haunt me?) I find you vanish through the fingers like a card in the hands of a magician.
I inquire of you in Rome—no one know about hummingbirds—I am in despair. Then the saints are kind. I see you on your terrace. I wait at your door. I send you a letter by your maid. You not reply and you not look at me when you pass by me in the street. I follow. But you vanish again into the door of that dark palazzo. I ask the concierge your name—he will not tell. Outside I wait, and the saints they are still kind. Down from Heaven falls the rose!
Next day I see the Secretaire Americain, my old friend as I remember at once. We meet on the street outside the palazzo—he say he goes in there to make call on lovely American young lady. I take him by the arm, I beg, I implore him to introduce me,—ah, I am so desperate! Perhaps he have pity on one who suffer so much. He take me in and—I have to talk to your Aunt. He speak all the time to you, and I have to see you together and talk only to the Aunt. Are you willing I should come again, Cleopatra girl? Post Scriptum. I come again anyway!
JOURNAL CONTINUED
Rome,
February.
The dashing Italian officer, Captain Carlo, with the piercing eyes and the Roman nose, gave a dinner last night at the Grand Hotel. He’s not exactly goodlooking but very attractive—almost as fascinating as the Prince whose letters certainly do amuse me. Later the carriage was to come to take me to the Duchess Sermoneta’s dance. Well! I made my adieux and started to leave the hotel.
But alas, my carriage was not there, and I was quite disturbed when up came the American Secretary and offered to take me in his brougham. I was very glad to accept. Do you know I think I am going to like him! He is dark and slender, clean-shaven and romantic-looking, and has very distinguished manners.