“I hope you will send me your Venetian letters when they come out,” I
ventured.
“I will,” declared she courteously.
She thereupon proceeded to ply me with questions the most diverse, the
which for brevity’s sake I forbear to transcribe. Each was more amazing
than the last, and when finally I found myself escorting her to her
hotel, I wondered whether, after all, the rôle of Bantling would suit
me. Nevertheless, I had an extreme curiosity to hear her comments upon
those aqueous aspects of Venice which had as yet remained concealed
from her. I also took occasion to stop at Zanetti’s and purchase a copy
of Baedeker’s “Northern Italy,” which I begged of Henrietta to accept
as a loan. I knew she would accept it on no other terms, and I assured
her that she would find it invaluable in putting her notes into
permanent form. She, thanking me warmly for my manifold kindnesses,
declared that she would be delighted to accompany me in a gondola at
three o’clock, when her letters would surely be ready for the post.
When I called for her at the time appointed, the porter informed me
that the _signorina_ had departed on the half-past-two train. In the
face of my incredulity he then produced the new Baedeker and the
following note: