"It is a good gift from the saints. We
have had such stupid adventures, and we have been so bored."
"We" were evidently the handsome, slightly moustached women of
thirty-five, and the thin, darkly dour man of fifty who were with the
Contessa in the carriage; and a moment later she had introduced me to
the Baron and Baronessa di Nivoli. I echoed the name with some
interest. "Have I the pleasure of meeting the inventor of the new
air-ship which is so much talked about?" I asked.
"That is my brother Paolo," replied the Baron, unbending slightly.
"He will join us later," added the Baronessa, with a quick look at the
pretty and rich little widow which betrayed to me a secret. She then
turned a dark, disapproving gaze upon me which told another, and I
could have laughed aloud. "They want to nobble my poor little Contessa
for brother-aeronaut, and they don't countenance chance meetings with
strange young men," I said to myself, greatly amused. "If they can see
through the dust, and suspect in me a possible rival for the absent,
they have sharp eyes, or keen imaginations, and I may be in for a
little fun."
We were at the hotel door, and I was allowed to help the Contessa out,
though the elder lady preferred the aid of the concierge. For the
moment Gaeta had forgotten the claims of her companions, and
remembered only mine. It is a butterfly way of hers to forget easily,
and flutter with delight in a new corner of the garden, just because
it is new.
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