"_Ah, carissimo_," said a soft and tender voice in his ear, a low, sweet voice, "_se veramenta me me ami, saro lo tua carissima sposa--_"
At that moment the door opened and Buttons walked in. In an instant he darted out. The Signora hurried away.
"_Addio, bellisima, carissima gioja_!" she sighed.
The Senator was still paralyzed,
After a time he went with a pale and anxious face to see Buttons. The young man promised secrecy, and when the Senator was telling his story tried hard to look serious and sympathetic. In vain. The thought of that scene, and the cause of it, and the blunder that had been made overwhelmed him. Laughter convulsed him. At last the Senator got up indignantly and left the room.
But what was he to do now? The thing could not be explained. How could he get out of the house? He would have to pass her as she sat at the door.
He had to call on Buttons again and implore his assistance. The difficulty was so repugnant, and the matter so very delicate, that Buttons declared he could not take the responsibility of settling it. It would have to be brought before the Club.
The Club had a meeting about it, and many plans were proposed. The stricken Senator had one plan, and that prevailed. It was to leave Rome on the following day. For his part he had made up his mind to leave the house at once. He would slip out as though he intended to return, and the others could settle his bill and bring with them the clothes that had caused all this trouble. He would meet them in the morning outside the gate of the city.
This resolution was adopted by all, and the Senator, leaving money to settle for himself, went away. He passed hurriedly out of the door. He dared not look. He heard a soft voice pronounce the word "_Gioja_!" He fled.
Now that one who owned the soft voice afterward changed her feelings so much toward her "gioja" that opposite his name in her house-book she wrote the following epithets: _Birbone, Villano, Zolicacco, Burberone, Gaglioffo, Meschino, Briconaccio, Anemalaccio_.