"Italy!--Well, that astonishes me a good deal! I never knew there was any thing particularly interesting about Italy! I should have expected you to say, England."
"England is a fine country, too, certainly; but it wants many things that Italy enjoys."
"Well, now, what?" said Mr. Howel, shifting his legs from one knee to the other, in order to be more convenient to listen, or, if necessary, to object. "What can Italy possess, that England does not enjoy in a still greater degree?"
"Its recollections, for one thing, and all that interest which time and great events throw around a region."
"And is England wanting in recollections and great events? Are there not the Conqueror? or, if you will, King Alfred? and Queen Elizabeth, and Shakspeare--think of Shakspeare, young lady--and Sir Walter Scott, and the Gun-Powder Plot; and Cromwell, Oliver Cromwell, my dear Miss Eve; and Westminster Abbey, and London Bridge, and George IV., the descendant of a line of real kings,--what, in the name of Heaven, can Italy possess, to equal the interest one feels in such things as these?'
"They are very interesting no doubt;" said Eve, endeavouring not to smile--"but Italy has its relics of former ages too; you forget the Cæsars."
"Very good sort of persons for barbarous times, I dare say, but what can they be to the English monarchs? I would rather look upon a bonâ fide English king, than see all the Cæsars that ever lived. I never can think any man a real king but the king of England!"
"Not King Solomon!" cried John Effingham.
"Oh! he was a Bible king, and one never thinks of them. Italy! well, this I did not expect from your father's daughter! Your great-great-great-grandfather must have been an Englishman born, Mr, Effingham?"
"I have reason to think he was, sir."