CHAPTER XXX
A WAY TO FORGET
The faces of the group, as Uncle John finished reading, were worthstudying. Arthur Weldon was white with anger, and his eyes blazed. SilasWatson stared blankly at his old friend, wondering if it was because hewas growing old that he had been so easily hoodwinked by this saucychild. Beth was biting her lip to keep back the tears of humiliationthat longed to trickle down her cheeks. Louise frowned because sheremembered the hard things Tato had said of her. Patsy was softly cryingat the loss of her friend.
Then Kenneth laughed, and the sound sent a nervous shiver through thegroup.
"Tato's a brick!" announced the boy, audaciously. "Can't you see, youstupids, that the thing is a good joke on us all? Or are you too thinskinned to laugh at your own expense?"
"Oh, we can laugh," responded Uncle John, gravely. "But if Tato's abrick it's because she is hard and insensible. The loss of the moneydoesn't hurt me, but to think the wicked little lass made me love herwhen she didn't deserve it is the hardest blow I have ever received."
That made Patsy sob outright, while Louise ejaculated, with scorn: "Thelittle wretch!"
"It serves us right for having confidence in a child reared to crime andmurder from the cradle," said Arthur, rather savagely. "I don't know howmuch money I am worth, but I'd gladly spend another thirty thousand tobring this wretched creature to justice."
"Money won't do it," declared the lawyer, shaking his head regretfully."The rascals are too clever to be caught in Europe. It would bedifferent at home."
"Well, the best thing to do is to grin and bear it, and forget theunpleasant incident as soon as possible," said Uncle John. "I feel as ifI'd had my pocket picked by my best friend, but it isn't nearly asdisgraceful as being obliged to assist the thief by paying ransommoney. The loss amounts to nothing to either of us, and such treachery,thank goodness, is rare in the world. We can't afford to let the thingmake us unhappy, my friends; so cheer up, all of you, and don't dwellupon it any more than you can help."
They left Syracuse a rather solemn group, in spite of this wise advice,and journeyed back to Naples and thence to Rome. There was much to seehere, and they saw it so energetically that when they boarded the trainfor Florence they were all fagged out and could remember nothing clearlyexcept the Coliseum and the Baths of Carracalla.
Florence was just now a bower of roses and very beautiful. But Kennethlugged them to the galleries day after day until Uncle John declared hehated to look an "old master" in the face.
"After all, they're only daubs," he declared. "Any ten-year-old boy inAmerica can paint better pictures."
"Don't let anyone hear you say that, dear," cautioned Patsy. "They'dthink you don't know good art."
"But I do," he protested. "If any of those pictures by old masters wasused in a street-car 'ad' at home it would be money wasted, for no onewould look at them. The people wouldn't stand for it a minute."
"They are wonderful for the age in which they were painted," saidKenneth, soberly. "You must remember that we have had centuries in whichto improve our art, since then."
"Oh, I've a proper respect for old age, I hope," replied Uncle John;"but to fall down and worship a thing because it's gray-haired andout-of-date isn't just my style. All of these 'Oh!'s' and 'Ahs!' overthe old masters are rank humbug, and I'm ashamed of the people thatdon't know better."
And now Arthur Weldon was obliged to bid good-bye to Louise and herfriends and take a train directly to Paris to catch the steamer forhome. His attorney advised him that business demanded his immediatepresence, and he was obliged to return, however reluctantly.
Kenneth and Mr. Watson also left the party at Florence, as the boyartist wished to remain there for a time to study the pictures thatUncle John so bitterly denounced. The others went on to Venice, whichnaturally proved to the nieces one of the most delightful places theyhad yet seen. Mr. Merrick loved it because he could ride in a gondolaand rest his stubby legs, which had become weary with tramping throughgalleries and cathedrals. These last monuments, by the way, had grown tobecome a sort of nightmare to the little gentleman. The girls wereenthusiastic over cathedrals, and allowed none to escape a visit. For atime Uncle John had borne up bravely, but the day of rebellion was sooncoming.
"No cathedrals in Venice, I hope?" he had said on their arrival.
"Oh, yes, dear; the loveliest one in the world! St. Mark's is here, youknow."
"But no St. Paul's or St. Peter's?"
"No, Uncle. There's the Saluta, and the--"
"Never mind. We'll do that first one, and then quit. What they build somany churches for I can't imagine. Nobody goes to 'em but tourists, thatI can see."
He developed a streak of extravagance in Venice, and purchased Venetianlace and Venetian glassware to such an extent that the nieces had toassure him they were all supplied with enough to last them and theirfriends for all time to come. Major Doyle had asked for a meerschaumpipe and a Florentine leather pocket book; so Uncle John made acollection of thirty-seven pipes of all shapes and sizes, and bought somany pocketbooks that Patsy declared her father could use a differentone every day in the month.
"But they're handy things to have," said her uncle, "and we may not getto Europe again in a hurry."
This was his excuse for purchasing many things, and it was only byreminding him of the duty he would have to pay in New York that thegirls could induce him to desist.
This customs tax worried the old gentleman at times. Before this trip hehad always believed in a protective tariff, but now he referred to theUnited States customs as a species of brigandage worse than that of IlDuca himself.
They stopped at Milan to visit the great cathedral, and then racedthrough Switzerland and made a dash from Luzerne to Paris.
"Thank heaven," said Uncle John, "there are no cathedrals in gay Paree,at any rate."
"Oh, yes there are," they assured him. "We must see Notre Dame, anyway;and there are a dozen other famous cathedrals."
Here is where Uncle John balked.
"See here, my dears," he announced, "Not a cathedral will I visit fromthis time on! You can take a guide and go by yourselves if you feel youcan't let any get away from you. Go and find another of Mike Angelo'slast work; every church has got one. For my part, I've always beenreligiously inclined, but I've been to church enough lately to last methe rest of my natural life, and I've fully determined not to darken thedoors of another cathedral again. They're like circuses, anyhow; whenyou've seen one, you've seen 'em all."
No argument would induce him to abandon this position; so the girlsaccepted his proposal and visited their beloved cathedrals in charge ofa guide, whose well of information was practically inexhaustible if notremarkable for its clarity.
The opera suited Uncle John better, and he freely revelled in the shops,purchasing the most useless and preposterous things in spite of thatgrowing bugbear of the customs duties.
But finally this joyous holiday came to an end, as all good things will,and they sailed from Cherbourg for New York.
Uncle John had six extra trunks, Patsy carried a French poodle that wasas much trouble as an infant in arms, and Louise engineered severalhat-boxes that could not be packed at the last minute. But the girlsembarked gay and rosy-cheeked and animated, and in spite of all theexcitement and pleasure that had attended their trip, not one of theparty was really sorry when the return voyage began.