Irma in Italy Part 18

"I haven't decided."

"Then come with me to Rag Fair, and after that I have something else for the afternoon. Aunt Caroline says she won't try to go out to-day, her cold is worse and Uncle Jim intends to stay in to read to her, and I, well, she said I must look out for you."

Marion said the last a trifle sheepishly, adding, "Of course I will do whatever you wish. But I am sure you will like my plan."

"Yes, provided you haven't the Catacombs in mind, or that awful church with bones and skulls for decorations."

"The Cappuccini; no, we won't go there."

"And you won't ask me to ride around Aurelian's wall on a bicycle?"

"No, though you'd find it great fun! I don't know anything I have enjoyed better. The towers are so picturesque and they were useful, too.

I went up in one to see the little rooms inside the walls that the soldiers occupied, and the guard-rooms, up there more than forty feet.

They certainly had a good chance to see the enemy at a long distance. If you and Aunt Caroline would drive some day, I'd point things out to you."

"Perhaps we will, but now--" Irma had taken out her camera. "Oh, I wish I could get a photograph, but I suppose they will run when they see what I want."

"They" made a picturesque group, slowly mounting the steps, a mother with babe in arms, a shawl thrown over her head, a half-grown girl in a faded pink gingham, and a little boy in a shabby velveteen suit and felt hat with a feather over his curls.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEAR LA TRINITa, ROME.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROME. A GROUP ON SPANISH STEPS.]

"The boy is probably an artist's model, dressed for effect. I am not sure about the others, but I can make them stand for you."

"Oh! Please!" Whereupon Marion stepped up to the woman, spoke a few words in Italian, and lo, they at once grouped themselves picturesquely in a spot where the sun fell in just the right way for a photograph.

Irma took her place, snapped her camera, turned the key, took a second snap, in case anything should go wrong with the first and murmured, "_Grazie, grazie_," one of her few Italian words.

"_Niente, niente, signorina_," said the girl, who seemed to be the spokesman of the party, looking inquiringly at Marion.

Then almost instantly Marion dropped a small piece of silver in her hand.

"That's the way to get them to stand," he said laughing; "generally the smallest copper will fetch them."

"But you gave more."

"Oh, this was a group of four. I have noticed that little chap before, selling flowers. He's very amusing."

Soon Irma had returned her library book, and by various short cuts Marion led her to the Palazzo Cancelleria, near which the so-called Rag Fair is held every Wednesday.

They found a series of canvas booths, where a great variety of things was displayed. The sellers, more numerous than the buyers, praised their wares at the tops of their voices, if Irma or Marion even glanced toward them.

"I should call it a rummage sale, and things are rather rubbishy," said Irma.

At this moment a man thrust a pair of silver-mounted opera gla.s.ses in Marion's face, naming a ridiculously low price. With some difficulty, Marion shook him off. "Nothing would induce me to buy them."

"But they seemed very cheap."

"Yes, but that's the reason. I believe they were stolen."

"Oh, but would the police allow it?"

"Not if they knew it, but these people keep such things hidden. Perhaps other goods are stolen, too. There are some pretty things here."

"Aunt Caroline might find some old lace or embroidery that she'd like, but for my own part I am disappointed. However, we've seen the Rag Fair, and we can cross that off our list of sights."

Leaving the Fair and the voluble merchants, after a walk of a block or two Marion suggested that they go home by trolley. This pleased Irma, who had not yet ridden in the Roman cars.

When the conductor came for their fare, Marion gave a cry of surprise.

"What is it?" asked Irma.

"Well, it's worse than ridiculous. I have lost my purse. My last small piece of money was the silver bit I gave to the girl on the Spanish Steps. I know I had my purse then."

While they were talking Irma put her own little purse in Marion's hand, and he paid their fare.

"Let us go back to the Rag Fair," she said. "Some one there must have taken it. You know how they were jostling us."

"There'd be no good in going back. The person who took it would hardly return it. Besides there wasn't much in it, not more than two hundred _liri_."

"Two hundred _liri_, forty dollars." Irma rapidly transferred the sum to American money. Why, that was more than she had brought from home as extra spending money and for little gifts, and Marion could say it was nothing.

"It is worth trying to find," she suggested mildly.

"If there was any chance of finding it, but we'd only waste time. It's too near luncheon, and I'm anxious to carry out my afternoon plan."

"How strange Marion is!" thought Irma. "It doesn't disturb him in the least to lose money, and yet some little thing that no one can account for will give him a fit of blues for two or three days."

At three in the afternoon Irma came down to the hotel office, looking cool and comfortable in her simple pongee suit.

"I am awfully curious," she said, as Marion helped her into the carriage. "Aunt Caroline says she knows where we're going, but she wouldn't spoil your fun."

Marion only smiled, as he directed the coachman, "To the Villa Corsini,"

and the words conveyed little to Irma, beyond the fact that a villa was Italian for "park" and not for "country house," as in English. After a quarter of an hour through a part of Rome she did not know, at last they came to some rather poor streets, where people were lounging about their doors as if expecting something.

"I suppose they're not turning out just to see us pa.s.s."

"Who knows? Perhaps they have heard that we are distinguished American visitors."

Soon they turned in toward a park, before whose gate stood a number of carriages and automobiles.

"We shall be here an hour," said Marion in Italian, and the driver bowed comprehendingly.

Showing their tickets, they went up a broad avenue past fine trees and occasional flower-beds. "It's a garden party for some kind of a charity," Marion explained, "and I thought it would be fun to see some of the princesses and marchionesses who are running it. There was a long list of them in the newspapers yesterday."

"Yes, it will be fun," responded Irma, really surprised that Marion should willingly waste an hour on what might be called a society affair.

That wasn't the way with most boys, and from what she had seen of Marion, she had not thought him fond of society.

Soon they came in sight of a long table, where many men and women were drinking and serving tea. Near it was a large marquee into which they looked as they pa.s.sed, with a table handsomely spread and decorated with flowers and bright streamers. At one end of the apartment several handsome chairs were placed.