What Katy Did Next — Chapter 11 part 2: Next

Their very last excursion of all, and one of the pleasantest, was to the old amphitheatre at Fiesole; and it was while they sat there in the soft glow of the late afternoon, tying into bunches the violets which they had gathered from under walls whose foundations antedate Rome itself, that a cheery call sounded from above, and an unexpected surprise descended upon them in the shape of Lieutenant Worthington, who having secured another fifteen days' furlough, had come to take his sister on to Venice.

"I didn't write you that I had applied for leave," he explained, "because there seemed so little chance of my getting off again so soon;

but as luck had it, Carruthers, whose turn it was, sprained his ankle and was laid up, and the Commodore let us exchange.

I made all the capital I could out of Amy's fever; but upon my word, I felt like a humbug when I came upon her and Mrs. Swift in the Cascine just now, as I was hunting for you.

How she has picked up!

I should never have known her for the same child."

"Yes, she seems perfectly well again, and as strong as before she had the fever, though that dear old Goody Swift is just as careful of her as ever.

She would not let us bring her here this afternoon, for fear we should stay out till the dew fell.

Ned, it is perfectly delightful that you were able to come.

It makes going to Venice seem quite a different thing, doesn't it, Katy?"

"I don't want it to seem quite different, because going to Venice was always one of my dreams," replied Katy, with a little laugh.

"I hope at least it doesn't make it seem less pleasant," said Mr. Worthington, as his sister stopped to pick a violet.

"No, indeed, I am glad," said Katy; "we shall all be seeing it for the first time, too, shall we not?

I think you said you had never been there."

She spoke simply and frankly, but she was conscious of an odd shyness.

"I simply couldn't stand it any longer," Ned Worthington confided to his sister when they were alone.

"My head is so full of her that I can't attend to my work, and it came to me all of a sudden that this might be my last chance.

You'll be getting north before long, you know, to Switzerland and so on, where I cannot follow you.

So I made a clean breast of it to the Commodore; and the good old fellow, who has a soft spot in his heart for a love-story, behaved like a brick, and made it all straight for me to come away."

Mrs. Ashe did not join in these commendations of the Commodore; her attention was fixed on another part of her brother's discourse.

"Then you won't be able to come to me again?

I sha'n't see you again after this!"

she exclaimed.

"Dear me!

I never realized that before.

What shall I do without you?"

"You will have Miss Carr.

She is a host in herself," suggested Ned Worthington.

His sister shook her head.

"Katy is a jewel," she remarked presently; "but somehow one wants a man to call upon.

I shall feel lost without you, Ned."

The month's housekeeping wound up that night with a "thick tea" in honor of Lieutenant Worthington's arrival, which taxed all the resources of the little establishment.

Maria was sent out hastily to buy _pan forte da Siena_ and _vino d'Asti_, and fresh eggs for an omelette, and chickens' breasts smothered in cream from the restaurant, and artichokes for a salad, and flowers to garnish all; and the guest ate and praised and admired; and Amy and Mabel sat on his knee and explained everything to him, and they were all very happy together.

Their merriment was so infectious that it extended to the poor giantess, who had been very pensive all day at the prospect of losing her good place, and who now raised her voice in the grand aria from "Orfeo," and made the kitchen ring with the passionate demand "Che farò senza Eurydice?"

The splendid notes, full of fire and lamentation, rang out across the saucepans as effectively as if they had been footlights; and Katy, rising softly, opened the kitchen door a little way that they might not lose a sound.

The next day brought them to Venice.

It was a "moment," indeed, as Katy seated herself for the first time in a gondola, and looked from beneath its black hood at the palace walls on the Grand Canal, past which they were gliding.

Some were creamy white and black, some orange-tawny, others of a dull delicious ruddy color, half pink, half red; but all, in build and ornament, were unlike palaces elsewhere.

High on the prow before her stood the gondolier, his form defined in dark outline against the sky, as he swayed and bent to his long oar, raising his head now and again to give a wild musical cry, as warning to other approaching gondolas.

It was all like a dream.

Ned Worthington sat beside her, looking more at the changes in her expressive face than at the palaces.

Venice was as new to him as to Katy; but she was a new feature in his life also, and even more interesting than Venice.

They seemed to float on pleasures for the next ten days.

Their arrival had been happily timed to coincide with a great popular festival which for nearly a week kept Venice in a state of continual brilliant gala.

All the days were spent on the water, only landing now and then to look at some famous building or picture, or to eat ices in the Piazza with the lovely façade of St. Mark's before them.

Dining or sleeping seemed a sheer waste of time!

The evenings were spent on the water too; for every night, immediately after sunset, a beautiful drifting pageant started from the front of the Doge's Palace to make the tour of the Grand Canal, and our friends always took a part in it.

In its centre went a barge hung with embroideries and filled with orange trees and musicians.

This was surrounded by a great convoy of skiffs and gondolas bearing colored lanterns and pennons and gay awnings, and managed by gondoliers in picturesque uniforms.

All these floated and shifted and swept on together with a sort of rhythmic undulation as if keeping time to the music, while across their path dazzling showers and arches of colored fire poured from the palace fronts and the hotels.

Every movement of the fairy flotilla was repeated in the illuminated water, every torch-tip and scarlet lantern and flake of green or rosy fire; above all the bright full moon looked down as if surprised.

It was magically beautiful in effect.

Katy felt as if her previous sober ideas about life and things had melted away.

For the moment the world was turned topsy-turvy.

There was nothing hard or real or sordid left in it; it was just a fairy tale, and she was in the middle of it as she had longed to be in her childhood.

She was the Princess, encircled by delights, as when she and Clover and Elsie played in "Paradise,"--only, this was better; and, dear me!

who was this Prince who seemed to belong to the story and to grow more important to it every day?

Fairy tales must come to ending.

Katy's last chapter closed with a sudden turn-over of the leaf when, toward the end of this happy fortnight, Mrs. Ashe came into her room with the face of one who has unpleasant news to communicate.

"Katy," she began, "should you be _awfully_ disappointed, should you consider me a perfect wretch, if I went home now instead of in the autumn?"

Katy was too much astonished to reply.

"I am grown such a coward, I am so knocked up and weakened by what I suffered in Rome, that I find I cannot face the idea of going on to Germany and Switzerland alone, without Ned to take care of me.

You are a perfect angel, dear, and I know that you would do all you could to make it easy for me, but I am such a fool that I do not dare.

I think my nerves must have given way," she continued half tearfully; "but the very idea of shifting for myself for five months longer makes me so miserably homesick that I cannot endure it.

I dare say I shall repent afterward, and I tell myself now how silly it is; but it's no use,--I shall never know another easy moment till I have Amy safe again in America and under your father's care."

"I find," she continued after another little pause, "that we can go down with Ned to Genoa and take a steamer there which will carry us straight to New York without any stops.

I hate to disappoint you dreadfully, Katy, but I have almost decided to do it.

Shall you mind very much?

Can you ever forgive me?"

She was fairly crying now.

Katy had to swallow hard before she could answer, the sense of disappointment was so sharp; and with all her efforts there was almost a sob in her voice as she said,-- "Why yes, indeed, dear Polly, there is nothing to forgive.

You are perfectly right to go home if you feel so."

Then with another swallow she added: "You have given me the loveliest six months' treat that ever was, and I should be a greedy girl indeed if I found fault because it is cut off a little sooner than we expected."

"You are so dear and good not to be vexed," said her friend, embracing her.

"It makes me feel doubly sorry about disappointing you.

Indeed I wouldn't if I could help it, but I simply can't. I _must_ go home.

Perhaps we'll come back some day when Amy is grown up, or safely married to somebody who will take good care of her!"

This distant prospect was but a poor consolation for the immediate disappointment.

The more Katy thought about it the sorrier did she feel.

It was not only losing the chance--very likely the only one she would ever have--of seeing Switzerland and Germany; it was all sorts of other little things besides.

They must go home in a strange ship with a captain they did not know, instead of in the "Spartacus," as they had planned; and they should land in New York, where no one would be waiting for them, and not have the fun of sailing into Boston Bay and seeing Rose on the wharf, where she had promised to be.

Furthermore, they must pass the hot summer in Burnet instead of in the cool Alpine valleys; and Polly's house was let till October.

She and Amy would have to shift for themselves elsewhere.

Perhaps they would not be in Burnet at all.

Oh dear, what a pity it was!

what a dreadful pity!

Then, the first shock of surprise and discomfiture over, other ideas asserted themselves; and as she realized that in three weeks more, or four at the longest, she was to see papa and Clover and all her dear people at home, she began to feel so very glad that she could hardly wait for the time to come.

After all, there was nothing in Europe quite so good as that.

"No, I'm not sorry," she told herself; "I am glad.

Poor Polly!

it's no wonder she feels nervous after all she has gone through.

I hope I wasn't cross to her!

And it will be _very_ nice to have Lieutenant Worthington to take care of us as far as Genoa."

The next three days were full of work.

There was no more floating in gondolas, except in the way of business.

All the shopping which they had put off must be done, and the trunks packed for the voyage.

Every one recollected last errands and commissions; there was continual coming and going and confusion, and Amy, wild with excitement, popping up every other moment in the midst of it all, to demand of everybody if they were not glad that they were going back to America.

Katy had never yet bought her gift from old Mrs. Redding.

She had waited, thinking continually that she should see something more tempting still in the next place they went to; but now, with the sense that there were to be no more "next places," she resolved to wait no longer, and with a hundred francs in her pocket, set forth to choose something from among the many tempting things for sale in the Piazza.

A bracelet of old Roman coins had caught her fancy one day in a bric-à-brac shop, and she walked straight toward it, only pausing by the way to buy a pale blue iridescent pitcher at Salviate's for Cecy Slack, and see it carefully rolled in seaweed and soft paper.

The price of the bracelet was a little more than she expected, and quite a long process of bargaining was necessary to reduce it to the sum she had to spend.

She had just succeeded and was counting out the money when Mrs. Ashe and her brother appeared, having spied her from the opposite side of the Piazza, where they were choosing last photographs at Naga's. Katy showed her purchase and explained that it was a present; "for of course I should never walk out in cold blood and buy a bracelet for myself," she said with a laugh.

"This is a fascinating little shop," said Mrs. Ashe.

"I wonder what is the price of that queer old chatelaine with the bottles hanging from it."

The price was high; but Mrs. Ashe was now tolerably conversant with shopping Italian, which consists chiefly of a few words repeated many times over, and it lowered rapidly under the influence of her _troppo's_ and _è molto caro's_, accompanied with telling little shrugs and looks of surprise.

In the end she bought it for less than two thirds of what had been originally asked for it.

As she put the parcel in her pocket, her brother said,-- "If you have done your shopping now, Polly, can't you come out for a last row?"

"Katy may, but I can't," replied Mrs. Ashe.

"The man promised to bring me gloves at six o'clock, and I must be there to pay for them.

Take her down to the Lido, Ned.

It's an exquisite evening for the water, and the sunset promises to be delicious.

You can take the time, can't you, Katy?"

Katy could.

Mrs. Ashe turned to leave them, but suddenly stopped short.

"Katy, look!

Isn't that a picture!"

The "picture" was Amy, who had come to the Piazza with Mrs. Swift, to feed the doves of St. Mark's, which was one of her favorite amusements.

These pretty birds are the pets of all Venice, and so accustomed to being fondled and made much of by strangers, that they are perfectly tame.

Amy, when her mother caught sight of her, was sitting on the marble pavement, with one on her shoulder, two perched on the edge of her lap, which was full of crumbs, and a flight of others circling round her head.

She was looking up and calling them in soft tones.

The sunlight caught the little downy curls on her head and made them glitter.

The flying doves lit on the pavement, and crowded round her, their pearl and gray and rose-tinted and white feathers, their scarlet feet and gold-ringed eyes, making a shifting confusion of colors, as they hopped and fluttered and cooed about the little maid, unstartled even by her clear laughter.

Close by stood Nurse Swift, observant and grimly pleased.

The mother looked on with happy tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Katy, think what she was a few weeks ago and look at her now!

Can I ever be thankful enough?"

She squeezed Katy's hand convulsively and walked away, turning her head now and then for another glance at Amy and the doves; while Ned and Katy silently crossed to the landing and got into a gondola.

It was the perfection of a Venice evening, with silver waves lapsing and lulling under a rose and opal sky; and the sense that it was their last row on those enchanted waters made every moment seem doubly precious.

I cannot tell you exactly what it was that Ned Worthington said to Katy during that row, or why it took so long to say it that they did not get in till after the sun was set, and the stars had come out to peep at their bright, glinting faces, reflected in the Grand Canal.

In fact, no one can tell; for no one overheard, except Giacomo, the brown yellow-jacketed gondolier, and as he did not understand a word of English he could not repeat the conversation.

Venetian boatmen, however, know pretty well what it means when a gentleman and lady, both young, find so much to say in low tones to each other under the gondola hood, and are so long about giving the order to return; and Giacomo, deeply sympathetic, rowed as softly and made himself as imperceptible as he could,--a display of tact which merited the big silver piece with which Lieutenant Worthington "crossed his palm" on landing.

Mrs. Ashe had begun to look for them long before they appeared, but I think she was neither surprised nor sorry that they were so late.

Katy kissed her hastily and went away at once,--"to pack," she said,--and Ned was equally undemonstrative; but they looked so happy, both of them, that "Polly dear" was quite satisfied and asked no questions.

Five days later the parting came, when the "Florio" steamer put into the port of Genoa for passengers.

It was not an easy good-by to say.

Mrs. Ashe and Amy both cried, and Mabel was said to be in deep affliction also.

But there were alleviations.

The squadron was coming home in the autumn, and the officers would have leave to see their friends, and of course Lieutenant Worthington must come to Burnet--to visit his sister.

Five months would soon go, he declared; but for all the cheerful assurance, his face was rueful enough as he held Katy's hand in a long tight clasp while the little boat waited to take him ashore.

After that it was just a waiting to be got through with till they sighted Sandy Hook and the Neversinks,--a waiting varied with peeps at Marseilles and Gibraltar and the sight of a whale or two and one distant iceberg.

The weather was fair all the way, and the ocean smooth.

Amy was never weary of lamenting her own stupidity in not having taken Maria Matilda out of confinement before they left Venice.

"That child has hardly been out of the trunk since we started," she said.

"She hasn't seen anything except a little bit of Nice.

I shall really be ashamed when the other children ask her about it.

I think I shall play that she was left at boarding-school and didn't come to Europe at all!

Don't you think that would be the best way, mamma?"

"You might play that she was left in the States-prison for having done something naughty," suggested Katy; but Amy scouted this idea.

"She never does naughty things," she said, "because she never does anything at all.

She's just stupid, poor child!

It's not her fault."

The thirty-six hours between New York and Burnet seemed longer than all the rest of the journey put together, Katy thought.

But they ended at last, as the "Lake Queen" swung to her moorings at the familiar wharf, where Dr. Carr stood surrounded with all his boys and girls just as they had stood the previous October, only that now there were no clouds on anybody's face, and Johnnie was skipping up and down for joy instead of grief.

It was a long moment while the plank was being lowered from the gangway; but the moment it was in place, Katy darted across, first ashore of all the passengers, and was in her father's arms.

Mrs. Ashe and Amy spent two or three days with them, while looking up temporary quarters elsewhere; and so long as they stayed all seemed a happy confusion of talking and embracing and exclaiming, and distributing of gifts.

After they went away things fell into their customary train, and a certain flatness became apparent.

Everything had happened that could happen.

The long-talked-of European journey was over.

Here was Katy at home again, months sooner than they expected; yet she looked remarkably cheerful and content!

Clover could not understand it; she was likewise puzzled to account for one or two private conversations between Katy and papa in which she had not been invited to take part, and the occasional arrival of a letter from "foreign parts" about whose contents nothing was said.

"It seems a dreadful pity that you had to come so soon," she said one day when they were alone in their bedroom.

"It's delightful to have you, of course; but we had braced ourselves to do without you till October, and there are such lots of delightful things that you could have been doing and seeing at this moment."

"Oh, yes, indeed," replied Katy, but not at all as if she were particularly disappointed.

"Katy Carr, I don't understand you," persisted Clover.

"Why don't you feel worse about it?

Here you have lost five months of the most splendid time you ever had, and you don't seem to mind it a bit!

Why, if I were in your place my heart would be perfectly broken.

And you needn't have come, either; that's the worst of it.

It was just a whim of Polly's. Papa says Amy might have stayed as well as not.

Why aren't you sorrier, Katy?"

"Oh, I don't know.

Perhaps because I had so much as it was,--enough to last all my life, I think, though I _should_ like to go again.

You can't imagine what beautiful pictures are put away in my memory."

"I don't see that you had so awfully much," said the aggravated Clover;

"you were there only a little more than six months,--for I don't count the sea,--and ever so much of that time was taken up with nursing Amy.

You can't have any pleasant pictures of _that_ part of it."

"Yes, I have, some."

"Well, I should really like to know what.

There you were in a dark room, frightened to death and tired to death, with only Mrs. Ashe and the old nurse to keep you company--Oh, yes, that brother was there part of the time; I forgot him--" Clover stopped short in sudden amazement.

Katy was standing with her back toward her, smoothing her hair, but her face was reflected in the glass.

At Clover's words a sudden deep flush had mounted in Katy's cheeks.

Deeper and deeper it burned as she became conscious of Clover's astonished gaze, till even the back of her neck was pink.

Then, as if she could not bear it any longer, she put the brush down, turned, and fled out of the room; while Clover, looking after her, exclaimed in a tone of sudden comical dismay,-- "What does it mean?

Oh, dear me!

is that what Katy is going to do next?"

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