forlorn-looking things; but I supposed there were
carriages to go in the streets. Are there no carts either? How is the
baggage going?"

"There are no streets, mother. The ways are all water ways, and the
carriages are gondolas; and it is just as lovely as it can be. Come,
let us try it."

"What are the houses built on?"

"Mother, suppose you get in, and we'll talk as we go along. We had
better get out of the rain; don't you think so? It is falling quite
fast."

"I had rather be in the rain than in the sea. Dolly, if it isn't too
far, I'll walk."

"It is too far, dear mother. You could not do that. It is a long way
yet."

Lawrence stood by, biting his lips between impatience and a sense of
the ridiculous; and withal admiring the tender, delicate patience of
the girl who gently coaxed and reasoned and persuaded, and finally
moved Mrs. Copley to suffer herself to be put in the gondola, on the
forward deck of which Rupert had been helping the gondoliers to stow
some of the baggage. Dolly immediately took her place beside her
mother; the two young men followed, and the gondola pushed off. Mrs.
Copley found herself comfortable among the cushions, felt that the
motion of the gondola was smooth, assured herself that it would not
turn over; finally felt at leisure to make observations again.

"We can't see anything here," she remarked, peering out first on one
side, then on the other.

"There is nothing to see," said Lawrence, "but the banks of the canal."

"Very ugly banks, too. Are we going all the way by water now?"

"All the way, to our hotel door."

"Do the boatmen know where to go?"

"Yes. Have no fear."

"Why don't they have streets in Venice?"

"Mother, don't you remember, the city is built on sand banks, and the
sea flows between? The only streets possible are like this. Could
anything be better? This motion will not fatigue you; and are not your
cushions comfortable?"

"The _sea_, Dolly?" cried Mrs. Copley, catching the word. "You never
told me that. If the sea comes in, it must be rough sometimes."

"No, mother; it is a shallow level for miles and miles, covered at high
tide by a few feet of water, and at low tide bare. Venice is built on
the sand banks of islands which rise above this level."

"What ever made people choose such a ridiculous place to build a city,
when there was good ground enough?"

"The good ground was not safe from enemies, mother, dear. The people
fled to these sand islan