The Romance of Gino
“Dear Aunt Margaret, do be amused. Do think it unique and picturesque and charming that we should be entering this unknown world, this frivolous world playing about among the ruins and palaces of such a splendid and terrible past. A French hat, a cup of tea, a flirtation, in the hall where a Borgia planned a murder! And you and I, Aunt Margaret, you and I, who have never had anything but our doctors and lawyers and brokers to play with,—hard-hearted men who were not disposed to be charmed with us, even supposing they had time for it,—finding ourselves in the company of diplomats of all nations, of ambassadors, of princes, of monsignores—all so willing, so eager to be charmed!”
“Take care how you charm them too much,” said her aunt.
In the apartment of the American hostess who was entertaining them there were too many servants by the door, and in the rooms a surplus of adornment. Priceless things from India, from Japan, from Egypt, were heaped upon one another, tacked to walls, ceilings, and furniture, and each year, as a guest remarked, “there appear some more.” The hostess herself was a noisy and cordial person, whose hospitality, if a little blatant, was actually warm-hearted and recognized as such. All19
