e Asti, caldo,
frappe_!" he said loudly, so that all might hear him give the order. A
month in Venice, and he would be able to talk like a native. True, if
any Italian spoke to him, he was obliged to shake his head; but that was
a trifling matter.

"Tom!" warned Smith.

"You let me alone," replied O'Mally. "A quart of Asti won't hurt
anybody."

So the thin sweet wine of Asti was served, and La Signorina toasted them
all gratefully.

Early the next morning she and Kitty departed for Monte Carlo in quest
of fortune. Fortune was there, waiting, but in a guise wholly
unexpected.

CHAPTER XII

A BOX OF CIGARS

On the way up to Rome Hillard and his pupil had a second-class
compartment all to themselves. The train was a fast one; for the day of
slow travel has passed in Italy and the cry of speed is heard over the
land. The train stopped often and rolled about a good deal; but the
cushions were soft, and there was real comfort in being able to stretch
out full length. Hillard, having made this trip many times, took the
forward seat and fell into a doze.

Merrihew was like a city boy taking his first trip into the country. He
hung out of the window, and smoked and smoked. Whenever the train swept
round a curve he could look into the rear carriages; and the heads
sticking out of the thirds reminded him of chicken-crates. Never had he
seen such green gardens, such orange and lemon groves, such forests of
olives. Save that it was barren rock, not a space as broad as a man's
hand was left uncultivated; and not a farm which was not in good repair.
One saw no broken fences, no slovenly out-houses, no glaring
advertisements afield: nobody was asked impertinently if Soandso's soap
had been used that morning, nor did the _bambini_ cry for
soothing-syrups. Everything was of stone (for wood is precious in
Italy), generally whitewashed, and presenting the smiling countenance of
comfort and cleanliness. The Italian in the city is seldom clean; there,
it is so easy to lie in the gutters under the sun. Reared and bred in
laziness for centuries, dirt has no terrors, but water has. With his
brother in the country it is different. Labor makes him self-respecting.
Merrihew had seen so many dirty Sicilians and Neapolitans working on
American railways that he had come to the conclusion that Italy was the
most poverty-stricken country in the world. He was now forming new
opinions at the rate of one every hour.

How pretty were