"'I used to wish daily that Stuart could be with
us. He is the most satisfactory of travelling
companions, but I didn't know how very much I
wished it until one day in Venice. Papa was asleep
at the hotel, and I was so lonely that I started
out by myself to explore. I left a message with
the clerk that I had gone to vespers at Saint
Mark's Cathedral. There was a crowd of tourists in
the square in front of the cathedral, feeding the
pigeons. Hearing their English speech after so
many months of nothing but foreign tongues made me
homesick. In the whole plaza, no one but myself
seemed to be alone. They were walking in groups or
couples, and everybody seemed so gay and happy
that I was glad to cross over to the cathedral to
get out of sight.
"'The vesper service had just begun, and I stood
inside the door listening to the chanting of the
monks' voices, and getting more homesick every
moment. Just as the tears were ready to brim over,
I looked up, and there in the dim light beside me
stood Stuart. I thought I must be dreaming, but it
was a very happy dream, for I felt that I could
never be homesick or unhappy again when he looked
down and smiled.
"'I couldn't believe that I was awake and that he
was really there, until we got outside the
cathedral and he began to talk. Then he told me
that he had gone to the hotel, and they had given
him the message I had left for papa. It never
occurred to me to wonder why he had come to
Venice. It just seemed so natural and lovely that
he should be there that I never even asked him
why. He called a gondola, and we got in and went
drifting down the canals under the bridges and
past the old palaces, with the sunset turning
everything around us to rose-colour and gold. Oh,
I can't begin to tell you how perfectly heavenly
it all was. There was a new moon in the sky when
we turned back to the hotel, and, though Stuart
_hadn't_ proposed in the same way that Laurie did
to Amy in "Little Women," he had told me why he
came so far to find me, and I liked his way a
great deal better than Laurie's.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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