Part 13 (1/2)
_Rome, November._
The top o' the marnin' to ye, Polly Darlin'! It would be very inappropriate, wouldn't it, if this came to you by evening delivery?
At any rate it is the top o' the marnin' here in Rome, and I am pretending you are right next to me, my kitten-sphinx, and I'm greeting you with a morning kiss in token of our peace, or is it an armistice? Your letter makes me happy and yet your remarks about the Prince trouble me. There is, however, one clear way out of your difficulties, and that is to make our engagement known at once to everyone. I do not want to urge the point too strongly, but doesn't it seem that circ.u.mstances have combined to make an announcement desirable?
Putting aside all consideration of what people may say or think, I feel it would be franker, more dignified, more true to yourself, to others, to me, that the relation between us should be told. All kinds of complications will arise if we keep it secret. Do not act hastily on receiving this. Think it over carefully. Oh, I love you, Polly, with my whole soul! But I can't come home at once; my friend Charlton is now seriously ill and Emba.s.sy matters are tied up. Under the circ.u.mstances, I am glad you left Paris when you did. Did Boris see you off?
How bustling and busy your getting away from the hotel must have been,--the drive to the station through the gay streets, the excitement at the train, the helter-skelter of pa.s.sengers and porters with their bags, baggage, boxes, baskets, and rugs. Then the steamer, the good-byes, the buzz of the engine, the splash of water and a realization at last that you were homeward bound!
It will seem odd to hear about Rome now that you are in America, about the streets yellow with flooding suns.h.i.+ne, and crowded with carts from the Campagna, and cabbies on their rattletrap carriages cracking their whips and crying ”ah!” in deep guttural tones at their horses, instead of saying ”Whoa!” or ”Gee up!” in the proper American way.
Early one afternoon Charlton and I started out in an ancient cab and a decrepit horse to go to the Piazza San Pietro, or perish in the attempt. I had the enthusiasm and he the perseverance. Indeed we took turns in exhibiting these qualities, for there came a time when he was enthusiastic and I persevered. There were moments when the old horse went so slowly that we thought he would never get there, but the driver used the whip encouragingly. Finally we reached St. Peter's, surrounded by its huge colonnade, with its splas.h.i.+ng fountains, went up the broad terrace steps and beneath the great _loggia_, and into the overwhelming interior with its vast distance, out of all proportion to anything else in the world.
Inside the people were kissing the toe of St. Peter, while crowds walked about and men were hammering away until the whole place resounded with the work of putting up tribunes for some ceremonies.
But a great shaft of yellow suns.h.i.+ne came streaming down from the dome, making the gloom golden, and above the hum of voices could be heard the Pope's angel chanting beautifully.
When I came out and looked over toward your palace and saw the tops of the plants of the garden on the terrace, I could not resist going in to see Peppi. You know he has lately taken your old apartment, in memory of your Aunt, I suppose. Up the stairway we climbed till we came to the door and rang. There was a great rattling of chains and unbolting of locks; the door finally opened and we were told he was home. He asked us to take pot luck with him, so we went up first on the terrace and examined the roses, some poor weedy sunflowers, and a few little pansies that looked pleadingly up at me while I stood in the corner of the terrace where you stood that last night, Polly.
The sky was glorious; the sun had gone down and St. Peter's and the huge pile of the Vatican, with only here and there a twinkling light in the darkness of the ma.s.sive building, loomed up in silhouette against a heaven of delicate brown which shaded into pale green. Above us in a pure vault of blue, the crescent moon floated, all silver, while in the opposite horizon, over the Alban Mountains and the Appenines, great banks of clouds rolled up, black and threatening beneath, reflecting the afterglow above, while forked lightning played ceaselessly through them. Later the facade of the cathedral became outlined in lights, although the dome was left in blackness, and all the Borgo was hung with paper lanterns and was very gay and bright.
But I felt lonely without you.
D. V., it will not be long before I reach home! Already I can see the beautiful bay, the boats pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing, and the arrival of Quarantine and Custom officials. The great city--greater New York--faintly appearing through the morning mist, and the huge buildings towering above the fog, like a city in the clouds. We pa.s.s the statue, the busy ferry boats hurry beneath our great bow and--ah, Polly, I must confess my eyes are tearful with the excitement and happiness of the thought. My great anxiety to be with you should carry the s.h.i.+p more quickly, though alas, in this practical age, it depends more on the quality of the coal than on the burning anxiety of a lover.
PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY
_Paris, December._
I followed you to Paris and showed you nightly and by day in the restaurants and the Bois, and all the places of fas.h.i.+on, and everybody he look with eyes of admiration at you and at me glances of envy. When you smile with me, then I was for a moment happy. But though you smile, you do not stay--you go away to America. You are like pretty floating milkweed, you touch here and there in your travels. The wind (your Aunt) blow you from place to place.
In sables from Siberia I would dress you and jewels from the Urals, and take you to the opera at Moscow. We would travel in the East, and you are so clever, you would help me in my secret missions. We would decipher riddles and gather secret news. You would fascinate the great ones of the earth, and they would tell you tales of State that would help the great cause. What would you say, _ma pet.i.te_? Be my Princess and let me carry you to my castle in the mountains; it is a little savage among the Tartars, but I hope the hummingbird find it in her heart to make her nest there with me some day.
Soon I meet you in America and we talk again.
A. D. TO POLLY
_Rome, December._
Your cable telling me of your willingness to announce our engagement was received with inexpressible happiness. I did not realize that making known our secret would bring such a new joy into my life. It almost makes me burst from sheer felicity when people say pleasant things. Dear old Checkers sent me an engagement book because, he wrote, I was engaged! Beaming, round-faced Pan bustled in, with his red fez on one side, and his fingers strung with all his jewelled rings, to talk about you and my wonderful luck. He got as excited as I did, and we both rattled on at the same time. Then we went out to dinner and had a bottle of champagne. Up he got to drink our healths,--can't you see him?--reciting,
”May your joys be as deep as the ocean, Your sorrows as light as its foam!”
But poor Charlton! I went in to tell him of our engagement and he gave me the warmest congratulations. He doesn't seem any better. Indeed, Polly, I doubt if he is ever going to get well. I shall hurry homewards as soon as possible, but I can't leave him now. Pay no attention to your Aunt's obstacles, my dear, if they threaten our love for each other, will you? Surely, surely, you will be true.