_Monte Catini,
August._
Dear, dear Sensation Captain, what a day that was, to be sure, that
you wrote about. I have read and re-read your experiences and wish I
might have been along to share the perils by cabmen and the perils by
train! But you reached The Hague all the same while I was at this
ineffective distance. Oh, please let _me_ manage a trip some time for
my pretty Polly.
Your little gondola is here in my pocket, for we are inseparable
companions. Indeed I know of none more agreeable, since I cannot be
with you, for while the little boat is always suggesting something
pleasant, yet she permits me to do the talking; so we get on
swimmingly, or rather floatingly, the gondola and I.
I often think, dear, how at the big receptions last spring, I found
such delight in looking at you. Your manner toward all was so
charming. And do you remember the dinner at the American Embassy when
I didn’t sit next to the girl I wanted? But you didn’t seem to mind,
and flirted with the Prince, though every now and then you did look at
me just a little, didn’t you? And then afterwards, in the great
corridor, when the Ambassador was talking to you more affably than I
had ever seen him, I stood by and felt proud and didn’t know
why--though I do now, indeed!
I saw the Spanish Marquis yesterday. He looked at me suspiciously, but
perhaps it was just my imagination, because I knew you had refused
him. No one has heard from Don Carlo, but I believe the gardener’s
daughter _has_ followed him to South Africa.
As for my conduct in Monte Catini, I am doing pretty well, which is
the limit of opportunity in this Tuscan place among the Pistojan
hills. Anyhow, your Dip is thinking constantly of you, and looking a
good many times lately into the back of his timepiece (which Checkers
wanted to inspect, do you remember? and I wouldn’t let him). People
may think I am gazing at the face of my watch, but I watch another
face, I assure you!
* * * * *