“My husband, Harry,” said Kate, disengaging herself; and to add to the surprise of our hero, his friend Evans claimed that happy privilege—and a warm, cordial greeting was exchanged.
“How singular we should have thus met! I must have had some prescience there was pleasure in store for me!” exclaimed Auburn. “This half hour, dear Kate, have I been listening to the songs you used to sing me, with a strange conviction that it was your voice I heard.”
“But you surely must have known of my intended marriage, Harry?” said Kate. “And that reminds me that you never even answered my letter inviting you to the ceremony; and here is George, too, who also wrote, requesting you to act upon the interesting occasion conjointly with my dear friend—but I forget—you do not like to hear about her—the more your loss. Say, why did you not answer?”
“Simply because I never received your letter. The fact is, I have been a rover since I left the city—to no place ‘constant ever.’ How long have you been here?” continued Auburn—“I trust I have not arrived just as you are about leaving?”
“Oh, no, we have been here but a few days, on a visit to George’s parents. That same annoying friend of mine also dwells here, and possibly we may remain to attend her wedding—but what brought you here?”
“Partly pleasure—partly the hope of profit. You both know my ardent desire to visit Italy, and the small means I possess to carry my wishes into effect. Apart from my own desire to improve the superior facilities which the old world affords, you are aware that in this country it is rarely an artist arrives to eminence, or even a reputation above the medium, unless he has first sunned himself beneath the vine-clad hills of Italy—a foreign stamp is needed ere he can pass current with the multitude. To Italy, then, must I go, ere I can realize my ambitious hopes. By leading a sort of strolling life, for a season, roaming from village to village, in the exercise of my profession, I hope to raise a sufficient sum for the undertaking.”
“I have no doubt of your success,” said Evans. “Indeed in this place there are several wealthy families who would doubtless be glad of an opportunity to transmit themselves to posterity through your fadeless tints.”
“I should not wonder, George,” said Kate, “if Emma —”
“Emma!” exclaimed Auburn.
“Yes, Emma—why, what is the matter with you—one would think I had uttered some charm. I was going to say perhaps Emma might sit for her portrait—her lover would like it, I dare say.”