The Four Corners Abroad

The older girls listened attentively while the younger ones were absorbed in watching the pigeons who had not yet gone to roost under the arches of the church.

"I am glad they were brought back here," said Nan, "and I hope they will never be taken away again. They give such an air to the church, a triumphal note, and are quite a different decoration from those you usually see on churches. Are we going inside, Aunt Helen?"

"I think we'd better wait till morning to do that. We shall probably want to come here many times. Just now we will enjoy the outside of the church and the Piazza, for it is the centre of interest here, and there is always something to see."

"I should think there was," said Jack, whose attention had been drawn from the pigeons to the clock tower where the two bronze giants were preparing to strike the hours. Jean with a pigeon on each shoulder and one pecking at the peas in her hand was perfectly happy, but at Jack's words turned her eyes toward the tower at which they were all looking.

"There do seem to be a lot of people here," said Jo when the last stroke of the giants' hammers had ceased. "But I thought the Rialto was the great meeting-place. Don't you know the common expression, 'I'll meet you on the Rialto'?" Then after a pause, "What is the Rialto, anyhow, Miss Helen?"

"What we mean by the Rialto now is the great bridge which for many years was the only connecting one between the east and west sections of the city. Formerly it meant the section of the city where ancient Venice was built, and Baedeker says it was this section and not the bridge which is referred to in 'The Merchant of Venice,' and the expression to which you just referred is from the play."

"Dear me," said Jo, "when you get at the core of things how much more interesting they are."

"Of course we shall go to the Rialto," said Nan. "How do you get there, Aunt Helen?"

"From where we are we can go under the clock tower and walk up the Merceria, which is the principal business street of Venice, and has a number of good shops on it."

"Is it a real street? Do we have to go from shop to shop in a gondola?" Jo asked.

"No, indeed, we walk along comfortably on dry ground."

"But I thought Venice was all water."

"There is a part of it which is quite like any other city, and where you will find no suggestion of water for quite a distance. This part is where the ancient city was founded, and is an island which was known as Rivoalto. You will read about it in a history of Venice."

"Then I suppose Rialto is a contraction of the name of the island, Rivoalto," remarked Nan.

"Exactly. Over by the bridge there is a market which you will like to see, for you will find many Venetian types there, and moreover can buy excellent fruit. There are some odd sorts of shops, too, that are interesting to look into."

"Well," said Jo after a pause, "I am flabbergasted. I had such a very different idea of the city. I thought it was all like the Grand Canal, and that what shops there were must be reached by skipping over bridges, unless one went in a gondola. I am quite curious to see that part you speak of."

"We shall go there more than once before we get through, and you will find that there will be some little bridges to cross even in that part of the city. You will want to go to Santa Maria Formosa to see the St. Barbara, which is one of Nan's favorites. She has always admired the photograph which I have of it and now she can see the original."

Nan beamed. "Oh, I am so glad I am here. I believe, now I think of it, that I have always wanted to see Venice more than any other place, and I am actually here."

"What is the matter with Jean?" said Mary Lee, for Jean had given a sudden cry of pleasure, had scattered her dried peas to right and left and had flown off in the direction of the clock tower.

All turned to look and were surprised to see Mary Lee, too, following Jean's example.

"If it isn't Mr. St. Nick and Miss Dolores," cried Nan, who being the tallest had first caught sight of the couple toward whom the other two were making their way.

All hurried forward to greet these good friends. "When did you come? and where are you staying, and why didn't you let us know?" The questions came thick and fast.

It turned out that the Pinckneys had been in Venice for two days, were stopping at a hotel near the Palace of the Doges. They had written to the Corners, but the letter had probably arrived in Munich after the girls had left.

"Well, well, this is more fun than a barrel of monkeys!" Mr. Pinckney's jolly laugh rang out. "Just stay long enough on the Piazza and you're sure to meet every one you know, I was just saying to Dolores. Now, what's on for this evening? It is going to be a glorious night. Why can't we all go out and take it easy in a gondola or so? It is plenty warm enough and will be no exertion, either, that's what pleases me. There'll be music; we can listen to it when we choose and when we don't choose we can talk. What do you all say?"

"Please, please, please," came a chorus of entreaty from the girls.

"I think it is a lovely plan," agreed Miss Helen. "What do you say, Mary?"

Mrs. Corner did not object. There would be nothing wearisome about it but quite the contrary. So they parted to meet later at the steps of the Ducal palace.

It was the softest of spring nights with a faint afterglow in the sky and a rising moon when they set out. Long beams of light trembled on the dark waters, light from the windows of palaces, from prows of gondolas, from the moonlit skies. The party divided since they were too many for one gondola. Mary Lee and Jean elected to go with Mrs. Corner and Miss Dolores; the others chose Miss Helen and Mr. Pinckney as companions. It was a new and exciting experience but to none more than to Nan and Jo. Mary Lee was absorbed in Miss Dolores; Jack in chatting to Mr. Pinckney.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Nan whispered to her aunt. "I feel as if I were living a hundred years ago, and that these old palaces were not melancholy places given over for pensions and tourists."

"They're not all that, Nan."

"No, of course not, but the old glory has passed. Yet, how beautiful it still is here."

"It is beautiful under any circumstances, and what a history the place has had. With how many different nations has Venice been connected, and what changes she has seen!"

"When was she at the height of her glory?"

"In the fifteenth century, and a great republic she was then, but her magnificence began to wane in the sixteenth century. She has since twice belonged to Austria, has belonged to Italy, has been a republic, and at last was again united to Italy."

"I don't like to think of her as anything but Italian."

"She has had many Oriental influences which are still very evident and make her different from other Italian cities. She used to be the centre where the traffic of both the East and West met and under her Doges held many Eastern possessions. We must get some books, Nan, and read up so you will become better acquainted with the past of the queen of the Adriatic."

"Indeed, I do want to do that. I should love to have seen that ceremony of wedding her to the sea."

"We live in too late an age for all the old romances and poetry except what still lingers through association and imagination. So quiet, Jo? It isn't like you not to have a word to say."

"I'm listening, Miss Helen, and am having such a good time that I am hugging myself for want of a better way to express my delight. I do love all this so much better than I expected to. I'm afraid I hadn't given much thought to the places over here till I actually came. They were names that I ticked off something like this: Paris – gay streets and shops; good place to get smart clothes. London – fogs, omnibuses, Dickens' stories; Munich – beer, picture-galleries. Venice – gondolas; all water."

Miss Helen laughed. "That is the way those places appear in the minds of a good many persons, I'm afraid. You are glad you came, Jo, aren't you? I remember Nan said you were not very enthusiastic at first."

"You bet I'm glad." Jo spoke with more force than elegance. "I could bat my head against the wall when I think of what a goose I was about coming. What an ignoramus I was not to study up more before I came. Nan enjoys things and gets so excited over them lots of times when I don't know what in the world she is driving at. Then by the time I have learned a little history and stuff it is time to leave, and there is not any chance for my enthusiasm to break out. I can't imagine how Daniella kept up with her party. You all are way ahead of me when it comes to literature and pictures and things, and what must she have been?"

"At least she got a taste of the sweets," said Miss Helen, "and I have not a doubt but that it will awaken her ambition as nothing else could do."

"She always had plenty of ambition," said Nan, "but she knew scarcely anything of what was outside a very small world."

"And the way she will work to keep up with her new self will be a caution," said Jo. "Dear me," she sighed, "there's the trouble; when you don't know and haven't seen you feel twice as complacent. You have a few rather nice ideas and some little knowledge, Jo Keyes, I patted myself on the head and said, but now, gracious! I feel as if I didn't know as much as one of the San Marco pigeons."

"So much the better," Miss Helen told her. "There is nothing so hopeless as self-complacency. You will forge ahead now, Jo, with twice the ardor you did before."

Just then a sudden hail from a passing gondola startled them all. Some one was standing up waving his hat violently. "Hallo, Nan Corner! Hallo, Jack!" came a voice as the gondola swung alongside.

Jack peered into the neighboring bark and cried out, "Carter! It's Carter, Nan. I know it is."

"Is that you, Carter Barnwell?" asked Nan leaning forward. "Of all things!"

"That's just who," was the reply; "and another friend of yours."

"Who?" Nan again leaned forward.

"Howdy, Miss Nan," came a second greeting.

"It's Harold Kirk, my cousin, you know," Carter said.

"Well, I declare! Aunt Helen, it is Carter and Mr. Kirk."

"I wish there were room in here for you boys," said Miss Helen.

"Can't we divide up?" asked Carter. "One of us will get in there with you and some of you can come in here with us."

"Rather a difficult proceeding," said Miss Helen laughing.

"I didn't mean that exactly," said Carter laughing, too. "Who all are in there?"

"Nan, Miss Jo Keys and Jack, besides Mr. Pinckney and myself," Miss Helen told him. Mr. Pinckney had given but a word of formal greeting.

"Suppose I get in," proposed Carter, with a look at his companion. "Who will change with me?"

"I'm willing to," Nan offered, "if Aunt Helen will come with me." So it was arranged. The gondolas were brought together and the exchange made.

The third gondola was lagging a considerable distance in the rear of the others, so that its occupants were not yet seen. As Mr. Pinckney and his party were about to start ahead, Mr. Pinckney peremptorily ordered the gondolier to take second place, so it was Mr. Kirk and his friends who led the way.

CHAPTER XVIII

JACK AS CHAMPION

Miss Helen had not met Mr. Kirk before, but she had heard all about him, of how he had come upon Jean in the lobby of a theatre in New York when she was looking for her friends – she had escaped from them in order to visit the fairy queen of a little play to which Mr. Pinckney had taken the Corner girls – of how Jean had been taken under the young man's wing, and how she had dined with him and had finally been brought back safely to Mr. Pinckney's house. Because of all this Mr. Pinckney had invited the young man to Christmas dinner and so his acquaintance with them all began. Miss Helen did not know, however, neither did the Corners, that it was partly on account of this young Marylander that Mr. Pinckney had brought his granddaughter abroad, and that it was because of his presence that he had kept the first and third gondolas apart. For, kind-hearted though he was, and devoted though he might be to his granddaughter, when it became apparent that young Harold Kirk had more than a passing interest in the lovely Dolores, Mr. Pinckney straightway bore her off to Europe, hoping that it would be "out of sight, out of mind" on both sides.

To be sure he was only carrying out a plan which he had determined upon some time before, when he took his granddaughter abroad, and he hoped she would not discover any other than the original intention. He meant to stay long enough to "put a stop to any foolishness," so he told himself. Some day in the indefinite future she might marry, but not yet. He had no special objection to Harold Kirk, in fact he rather liked him, but he wanted no man to step in to take his place in the affections of the granddaughter he had lately discovered. When, therefore, the young man made his appearance upon the scene, Mr. Pinckney was annoyed, to say the least. He had promised himself a good time here in Venice with the Corner children, of whom he was very fond, but now all his plans were upset. He would leave at once.

So he sat silently meditating upon the turn of affairs while the gondolas slipped through the water, and Jack and Jo chatted to Carter Barnwell. Jack adored Carter, and she was a great favorite of his. They had been fast comrades in California and were ready to resume the comradeship on the old footing. After the first few questions which Mr. Pinckney put to Carter about Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Pinckney's daughter, with whom Carter had been making his home, the old gentleman let the young people have it all their own way, seldom making a remark unless in answer to some question put directly to him.

Meanwhile those in the gondola, which was in the lead, were talking of many things. Harold Kirk put a few polite questions about the movements of the party, but at first made no reference to the Pinckneys. Miss Helen was a stranger to him, and his own affairs were to be set aside while he entertained the two with him.

"What I want to know," said Nan after a while, "is how you happened to come across Carter. You know his mother is an old school friend of Aunt Helen's, and we met him in California. He and Jack are the greatest cronies."

"He has talked to me a great deal about Jack. He is a cousin of mine, you know."

"I didn't know. Oh, you must be his Cousin Hal we have heard him speak of. I didn't recognize the abbreviation." Nan was just at the age when she rather liked to use big words.

"His mother and mine are sisters." Mr. Kirk gave the information.

"Then you are Byrd Carter's son," exclaimed Miss Helen. "I have met her, for you know your aunt, Mrs. Barnwell, is a great friend of mine."

This put them all on a closer footing. There were questions to ask and to answer about families and friends, and at last Nan came back to the original subject of how he and Carter happened to come over together.

"Carter looked me up in New York," Mr. Kirk told them. "His father has given him this trip, and the doctor said he was so much better that it would do him no harm, so long as he avoided harsh climates. He will get back home before the November winds become too much for him. I think in time the boy will outgrow that early tendency to lung trouble which took him to California. Yet he likes it out there, and will probably settle down for good. Well, he urged me to come with him, said he hated to make the trip alone, said he would meet the Corner family somewhere – and – well, the temptation was too great, so I came to spend my summer holiday here instead of going to Maine or the Catskills."

"Had you met the Pinckneys here in Venice before you came across us?" asked Nan innocently.

"No."

"Why, we are all together, you know. Mr. Pinckney is in that next gondola, and Miss Dolores is with mother and Mary Lee in the one behind that."

Mr. Kirk was silent for a moment. "Do you know how long they are going to stay?" he asked after a moment.

"Oh, for some time." Nan was positive. "As long as we do and we shall be here at least a week or ten days, shan't we, Aunt Helen?"

Miss Helen assured her that they would stay not less time than that.

"Then we shall all have jolly times together," said Nan delightedly. "Now, don't you want to see mother and Miss Dolores and Jean? Suppose we tell our gondolier to turn back and go alongside, shall we, Mr. Kirk?"

The young man agreed very readily. There were many gondolas out upon the canal, and in the process of turning others came between them and the one in which Mr. Pinckney sat, so he did not observe but that Mr. Kirk's was still in the lead, and was not in the least aware that Mr. Kirk had greeted Miss Dolores and the rest of the way was sitting by her side while Nan and her aunt drifted on solely in each other's company.

"Where is Hal?" asked Carter as the gondola in which he was at last stopped at the Riva della Schiavoni to discharge its passengers. "I thought he was just ahead," he added looking around.

Mr. Pinckney frowned, for no gondola was near, but after a few minutes up came two. From the first stepped Mr. Kirk who helped Mrs. Corner ashore, then Jean, then Miss Dolores. Mr. Pinckney's frown grew deeper, and it was quite light enough for Jack to catch the expression.

"Oh, how cross you look," she cried. "I never saw you look so cross. Don't you like the gondolier, Mr. St. Nick? Did he cheat you?"

"No," growled Mr. Pinckney, "but some one else did."

Jack wondered who it could be. Maybe it was one of the old men they called "Rampini," who drew the gondolas ashore with his iron hook. It was clearly her duty to put Mr. St. Nick in a good humor. She had deserted him for Carter and maybe he didn't like it. So she caught hold of his hand and smiled up into his face.

"I think you are awfully nice, even when you frown, Mr. St. Nick," she said, "and I should like Carter to look just like you when he grows old."

"You should, should you?" Mr. Pinckney had to look a little more pleasant for Miss Dolores was walking with Mary Lee and Carter, while Mr. Kirk was escorting Miss Helen and Mrs. Corner. "Then I suppose you expect to see him around then just as you do now."

"Of course," replied Jack. "I am going to marry him, you know."

"You are? Well, all I have to say is that you are looking pretty far ahead."

"I like to look ahead," Jack informed him. "I like to think of next Christmas and of my birthday and of our getting back home and all the nice things. Don't you like to look ahead, Mr. St. Nick?"

"No, I can't say that I do. I prefer to enjoy the present moment."

"Are you enjoying the present moment?"

"You little outrageous coquette! here you've been talking to that boy all the evening, and now you're trying to make up with me. I see through your wiles."

Jack looked very serious. "But you see," she began by way of excuse, "I hadn't seen Carter for such a long while; not since we were in California, you know. He has written to me lots of times, but that isn't like seeing a person. Let's talk about what we're going to do to-morrow," she said after a moment, and setting aside what was a uselessly unpleasant subject. "I think we shall have a lovely time to-morrow. Will you go with us to feed the pigeons the first thing?"

Mr. Pinckney was silent for a little. "We shall probably not be here," he said presently.

"Not be here?" Jack dropped his hand in her surprise. "Why, Mr. St. Nick, I think that is awfully mean when we have just come. Where are you going?"

"I am not prepared to say exactly."

Jack looked up at him earnestly. She was a shrewd little body, strong in her intuitions. Early in the evening there had been plenty of plans discussed. What should suddenly decide Mr. St. Nick to go? At all events she would do her best to persuade him to stay. "But you're not going right after breakfast, are you?" she asked.

"Probably."

"And you won't do any of the things you said you would? You won't take us to the bead shop nor the glass factory nor anywhere?" This was the more astonishing that Mr. St. Nick was the one who always delighted in doing anything and everything he could for the children's entertainment.

But there was no time for a reply just then as they had reached their lodgings and the good-nights must be said. Jack noticed that neither Carter nor Mr. Kirk accompanied Mr. Pinckney and Miss Dolores, but that Mr. St. Nick hurried Miss Dolores away, leaving the young people still making their farewells. She kept her counsel, however, until she and her sisters were in their rooms; then she whispered to Nan, "I want to tell you something. May I get in bed with you?"

Nan consented and for half an hour there was much whispering going on, then Jack crept into the other bed where Jean was already sound asleep. It was all very puzzling and provoking, but perhaps Mr. St. Nick would change his mind before the next day.

Nan and the twins occupied one room, Mary Lee and Jo the other adjoining, but Mary Lee and Nan were talking earnestly in the larger room when Jack opened her eyes the following morning. They were talking about Miss Dolores, she soon ascertained.

"I think it is a shame," said Mary Lee. "I know she likes him and I know he came over because she was here, and did you see how cross he looked?"

Jack wondered who these various hes could be. Who was it that had come on Miss Dolores' account? She knew well enough who it was who had looked cross, and Mary Lee had noticed the frown, too.

"And don't you think it is horrid for him to jerk her away just as he has come?" said Nan. "He told Jack they were going to-day, and didn't say where."

"He did?" More hes and hers and a puzzling mix up of pronouns. Jack listened more eagerly. Of course she could easily make out that it was Mr. St. Nick who had told of going away.

"I don't see what makes him act so," Mary Lee went on. "He never was like this before in all the time we have known him. I'm sure Mr. Kirk is just as nice as can be, and in the beginning he treated him so cordially and now just because he and Miss Dolores are in love with each other you would suppose the poor fellow had committed a crime."

So that was it; Miss Dolores and Mr. Kirk were in love with each other and Mr. St. Nick was cross about it. Why couldn't he let them marry and all of them live together? Jack was sure it was a beautiful plan, and one that he had probably never thought of. He was supposing that Mr. Kirk would want to take Miss Dolores away. There wasn't the slightest need of that she could tell him and so she would. She decided not to delay the matter. Jack always wanted to rush a thing through as soon as an idea came into her head. She jumped up, not noticing the "Sh!" with which Nan warned Mary Lee that she was not to continue the subject, and was not long in making herself ready for the day.

The hotel where the Pinckneys were stopping was not far away, and to it Jack hastened, not staying to notice the effect of the morning light upon the water, the sun-touched buildings on the islands opposite, nor the boatmen out early. She was bent upon her errand. It was a direct way along the Riva della Schiavoni, as Jack well remembered, for her bump of locality did not often lead her astray. As at all large hotels over the Continent, English was spoken, the little girl was nothing daunted when she walked in and asked for Mr. Pinckney. She knew the señorita preferred to take her chocolate and rolls in her own room, but that Mr. Pinckney had not taken kindly to this habit, and would follow the custom of going to the breakfast-room. She would be asked to join him, no doubt, and it was with some pleasure that she considered the prospect. She would take an orange, jam for her bread, and some weak, very much sweetened coffee, also a very hard-boiled egg.

She did not have to wait long before the old gentleman came trotting into the room where she was waiting, fresh and rosy from his toilet. He was always immaculate, and since the discovery of his granddaughter he was more than ever particular about his personal appearance; his beard was more closely trimmed, his neckties and waistcoats more carefully chosen.

"Well, well, well!" he exclaimed, "this is a surprise. Come to have breakfast with me? Let's go right in. This is an attention I didn't expect."

"You see," began Jack diplomatically, "I thought if you were going away to-day I shouldn't have any time at all to see you if I didn't come early."