〃In half an hour or so your rooms will be ready；〃 said Mr。 Beebe。
Then looking rather thoughtfully at the two cousins； he retired
to his own rooms； to write up his philosophic diary。
〃Oh； dear！〃 breathed the little old lady； and shuddered as if all
the winds of heaven had entered the apartment。 〃Gentlemen
sometimes do not realize〃 Her voice faded away； but Miss
Bartlett seemed to understand and a conversation developed； in
which gentlemen who did not thoroughly realize played a principal
part。 Lucy； not realizing either； was reduced to literature。
Taking up Baedeker's Handbook to Northern Italy； she committed to
memory the most important dates of Florentine History。 For she
was determined to enjoy herself on the morrow。 Thus the half…hour
crept profitably away； and at last Miss Bartlett rose with a
sigh； and said：
〃I think one might venture now。 No； Lucy； do not stir。 I will
superintend the move。〃
〃How you do do everything；〃 said Lucy。
〃Naturally； dear。 It is my affair。〃
〃But I would like to help you。〃
〃No； dear。〃
Charlotte's energy！ And her unselfishness！ She had been thus all
her life； but really； on this Italian tour； she was surpassing
herself。 So Lucy felt； or strove to feel。 And yetthere was a
rebellious spirit in her which wondered whether the acceptance
might not have been less delicate and more beautiful。 At all
events； she entered her own room without any feeling of joy。
〃I want to explain；〃 said Miss Bartlett； 〃why it is that I have
taken the largest room。 Naturally； of course； I should have given
it to you； but I happen to know that it belongs to the young man；
and I was sure your mother would not like it。〃
Lucy was bewildered。
〃If you are to accept a favour it is more suitable you should be
under an obligation to his father than to him。 I am a woman of
the world； in my small way； and I know where things lead to。 How…
ever； Mr。 Beebe is a guarantee of a sort that they will not
presume on this。〃
〃Mother wouldn't mind I'm sure；〃 said Lucy； but again had the
sense of larger and unsuspected issues。
Miss Bartlett only sighed； and enveloped her in a protecting
embrace as she wished her good…night。 It gave Lucy the sensation
of a fog； and when she reached her own room she opened the window
and breathed the clean night air； thinking of the kind old man
who had enabled her to see the lights dancing in the Arno and the
cypresses of San Miniato； and the foot…hills of the Apennines；
black against the rising moon。
Miss Bartlett； in her room； fastened the window…shutters and
locked the door； and then made a tour of the apartment to see
where the cupboards led； and whether there were any oubliettes or
secret entrances。 It was then that she saw； pinned up over the
washstand； a sheet of paper on which was scrawled an enormous
note of interrogation。 Nothing more。
〃What does it mean？〃 she thought； and she examined it carefully
by the light of a candle。 Meaningless at first； it gradually
became menacing； obnoxious； portentous with evil。 She was seized
with an impulse to destroy it； but fortunately remembered that
she had no right to do so； since it must be the property of young
Mr。 Emerson。 So she unpinned it carefully； and put it between two
pieces of blotting…paper to keep it clean for him。 Then she
completed her inspection of the room； sighed heavily according to
her habit； and went to bed。
Chapter II： In Santa Croce with No Baedeker
It was pleasant to wake up in Florence； to open the eyes upon a
bright bare room； with a floor of red tiles which look clean
though they are not； with a painted ceiling whereon pink griffins
and blue amorini sport in a forest of yellow violins and
bassoons。 It was pleasant； too； to fling wide the windows；
pinching the fingers in unfamiliar fastenings； to lean out into
sunshine with beautiful hills and trees and marble churches
opposite； and close below； the Arno； gurgling against the
embankment of the road。
Over the river men were at work with spades and sieves on the
sandy foreshore； and on the river was a boat； also diligently
employed for some mysterious end。 An electric tram came rushing
underneath the window。 No one was inside it； except one tourist；
but its platforms were overflowing with Italians； who preferred
to stand。 Children tried to hang on behind； and the conductor；
with no malice； spat in their faces to make them let go。 Then
soldiers appearedgood…looking； undersized menwearing each a
knapsack covered with mangy fur； and a great…coat which had been
cut for some larger soldier。 Beside them walked officers； looking
foolish and fierce； and before them went little boys； turning
somersaults in time with the band。 The tramcar became entangled
in their ranks； and moved on painfully； like a caterpillar in a
swarm of ants。 One of the little boys fell down； and some white
bullocks came out of an archway。 Indeed； if it had not been for
the good advice of an old man who was selling button…hooks； the
road might never have got clear。
Over such trivialities as these many a valuable hour may slip
away； and the traveller who has gone to Italy to study the
tactile values of Giotto； or the corruption of the Papacy； may
return remembering nothing but the blue sky and the men and women
who live under it。 So it was as well that Miss Bartlett should
tap and come in； and having commented on Lucy's leaving the door
unlocked； and on her leaning out of the window before she was
fully dressed； should urge her to hasten herself； or the best of
the day would be gone。 By the time Lucy was ready her cousin had
done her breakfast； and was listening to the clever lady among
the crumbs。
A conversation then ensued； on not unfamiliar lines。 Miss
Bartlett was； after all； a wee bit tired； and thought they had
better spend the morning settling in； unless Lucy would at all
like to go out？ Lucy would rather like to go out； as it was her
first day in Florence； but； of course； she could go alone。 Miss
Bartlett could not allow this。 Of course she would accompany Lucy
everywhere。 Oh； certainly not； Lucy would stop with her cousin。
Oh； no！ that would never do。 Oh； yes！
At this point the clever lady broke in。
〃If it is Mrs。 Grundy who is troubling you； I do assure you that
you can neglect the good person。 Being English； Miss Honeychurch
will be perfectly safe。 Italians understand。 A dear friend of
mine； Contessa Baroncelli； has two daughters； and when she cannot
send a maid to school with them； she lets them go in sailor…hats
instead。 Every one takes them for English； you see； especially if
their hair is strained tightly behind。〃
Miss Bartlett was unconvinced by the safety of Contessa
Baroncelli's daughters。 She was determined to take Lucy herself；
her head not being so very bad。 The clever lady then said that
she was going to spend a long morning in Santa Croce； and if Lucy
would come too； she would be delighted。
〃I will take you by a dear dirty back way； Miss Honeychurch； and
if you bring me luck； we shall have an adventure。〃
Lucy said that this was most kind； and at once opened the
Baedeker； to see where Santa Croce was。
〃Tut； tut！ Miss Lucy！ I hope we shall soon emancipate you from
Baedeker。 He does but touch the surface of things。 As to the true
Italyhe does not even dream of it。 The true Italy is only to be
found by patient observation。〃
This sounded very interesting； and Lucy hurried over her
breakfast； and started with her new friend in high spirits。 Italy
was coming at last。 The Cockney Signora and her works had
vanished like a bad dream。
Miss Lavishfor that was the clever lady's nameturned to the
right along the sunny Lung' Arno。 How delightfully warm！ But a
wind down the side streets cut like a knife； didn't it？ Ponte
alle Grazieparticularly interesting； mentioned by Dante。 San
Miniatobeautiful as well as interesting； the crucifix that
kissed a murdererMiss Honeychurch would remember the story。 The
men on the river were fishing。 （Untrue； but then； so is most
information。） Then Miss Lavish darted under the archway of the
white bullocks； and she stopped； and she cried：
〃A smell！ a true Florentine smell！ Every city； let me teach you；
has its own smell。〃
〃Is it a very nice smell？〃 said Lucy； who had inherited from her
mother a distaste to dirt。
〃One doesn't come to Italy for niceness；〃 was the retort； 〃one
comes for life。 Buon giorno！ Buon giorno！〃 bowing right and
left。 〃Look at that adorable wine…cart！ How the driver stares at
us； dear； simple soul！〃
So Miss Lavish proceeded through the streets of the city of
Florence； short； fidgety； and playful as a kitten； though without
a kitten's grace。 It was a treat for the girl to be with any one
so clever and so cheerful； and a blue military cloak； such as an
Italian officer wears； only increased the sense of festivity。
〃Buon giorno！ Take the word of an old woman； Miss Lucy： you will
never repent of a little civility to your inferiors。 That is the
true democracy。 Though I am a real Radical as well。 There； now
you're shocked。〃
〃Indeed； I'm not！〃 exclaimed Lucy。 〃We are Radicals； too； out and
out。 My father always voted for Mr。 Gladstone； until he was so
dreadful about Ireland。〃
〃I see； I see。 And now you have gone over to the enemy。〃
〃Oh； please！ If my father was alive； I am sure he would vote
Radical again now that Ireland is all right。 And as it is； the
glass over our front door was broken last election； and Freddy is
sure it was the Tories； but mother says nonsense； a tramp。〃
〃Shameful！ A manufacturing district； I suppose？〃
〃Noin the Surrey hills。 About five miles from Dorking； looking
over the Weald。〃
Miss Lavish seemed interested； and slackened her trot。
〃What a delightful part； I know it so well。 It is full of the
very nicest people。