"
"Well, good-bye, then. Come, Eric." The door closed behind them.
Mr. Mann stood by the window and watched them walk away. Mae, with her
eager, restless, fresh life showing out in every motion; Eric, with his
boy-man air and his student swing and happy-go-lucky toss of his head.
Mr. Mann smiled and then he sighed. "That's a good boy, so square and
fair and merry--and a queer girl," he added. "Rome isn't the place for
her. She must get away, though why I should take care for her, or worry
about her, little vixen. I don't see." Still he smiled as one would over
a very winning, very wicked child, and shortly after took his hat and
went to the Pincio, after all.
Meantime, the brother and sister had walked gaily along, passed the
Spanish Steps, and were on the Pincian hill. Here, Mae was indeed happy.
The fine equipages and dark, rich beauty of the Italians delighted her,
and she and Eric found a shaded bench, and watched the carriages drive
round and round, and criticised, and admired, and laughed like two idle
children.
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