The contessa’s words were in Armstrong’s mind as he looked into her face. If Helen could hear what she had just said his explanations would be unnecessary. He wished the contessa were there, if she really possessed any such idea as her conversation had suggested. This girl in love with him, yet calmly stating that their association was at an end, and that any continuance was an impossibility!
“It has been a strain, Miss Thayer, as Helen said,” he replied, finally; “I feel it myself. With the manuscript actually completed, I shall take my time in putting it into final shape. And now I suggest that we get out into the air. Suppose we take a little run in the motor-car out around San Domenico, and then back home, to surprise them at luncheon?”
Inez saw in Armstrong’s suggestion a relaxing of the strained condition which she had brought upon herself.
“Perhaps Monsignor Cerini will join us,” she added.
“Never!” replied the librarian, with sudden fervor. “I may indulge myself in air-ships when once they become popular, but never in an automobile! I will have Maritelli telephone for your car.”
Inez smiled at Jack as they watched Cerini disappear through the door of his study. Then Armstrong’s face grew serious.
“The old man loves me as if I were his son,” he said, feelingly. “He is more proud of what I have done than if he had accomplished it himself.”
“He has reason to be proud,” replied Inez; “and so have we all.”
In olden days the bishop who was obliged to visit his diocese at San Domenico or at Fiesole had not spoken so lightly of the trip. Setting out on mule-back, and scattering blessings as he left the Porta a Pinti by the road still called the Via Fiesolana, he hoped to reach the “Riposo dei Vescovi” in time for dinner. There, after a bountiful repast, he discarded his faithful beast of burden, and entered the ox-drawn sledge which the monks of San Domenico were bound to provide, reaching the hill-top, if all went well, about sunset. But this was before the days even of the stage-coaches, and before the modern tramway enabled Mother Florence to reach out and enfold her daughters in her arms.
The chauffeur carefully picked his way through the narrow Borgo San Lorenzo into the more spacious Piazza del Duomo. Passing around the apse of the cathedral, they entered the Via de’ Servi.