"Good Heavens!" cried Buttons, aghast, and totally unprepared for this on the part of Dolores, though nothing on the part of the landlord could have astonished him. In the brief space of three weeks that worthy had been in the habit of telling him on an average about four hundred and seventy-seven downright lies per day. "You told me," said Buttons, with admirable calmness, "that it would be two piastres a week." "Two piastres! Two for both of you! Impossible! You might as well say I was insane." "Two piastres!" echoed Dolores, in indignant tones--"only think! And for this magnificent apartment! the best in the house--elegantly furnished, and two gentlemen! Why, what is this that he means?" "Et tu Brute!" sighed Buttons. "Signore!" said Dolores. "Didn't he, Dick?'" "He did," said Dick; "of course he did." "Oh, that _uomicciuolo_ will say any thing," said Dolores, contemptuously snapping her fingers in Dick's face. "Why, Signore. Look you. How is it possible? Think what accommodations! Gaze upon that bed! Gaze upon that furniture! Contemplate that prospect of the busy street!" "Why, it's the most wretched room in town," cried Buttons. "I've been ashamed to ask my friends here." "Ah, wretch!" cried Dolores, with flashing eyes. "You well know that you were never so well lodged at home. This miserable! This a room to be ashamed of! Away, American savage! And your friends, who are they? Do you lodge with the lazaroni?" "You said that you would charge two piastres. I will pay no more; no, not half a carline. How dare you send me a bill for eighteen piastres? I will pay you six piastres for the three weeks. Your bill for eighteen is a cheat. I throw it away. Behold!" And Buttons, tearing the paper into twenty fragments, scattered them over the floor. "Ah!" cried Dolores, standing before him, with her arms folded, and her face all aglow with beautiful anger; "you call it a cheat, do you? You would like, would you not, to run off and pay nothing? That is the custom, I suppose, in America. But you can not do that in this honest country." "Signore, you may tear up fifty bills, but you must pay," said the landlord, politely. "If you come to travel you should bring money enough to take you along," said Dolores. "Then I would not have to take lodgings fit only for a Sorrento beggar," said Buttons, somewhat rudely. "They are too good for an American beggar," rejoined Dolores, taking a step nearer to him, and slapping her little hands together by way of emphasis. "Is this the maid," thought Buttons, "that hung so tenderly on my arm at the masquerade? the sweet girl who has charmed so many evenings with her innocent mirth. Is this the fair young creature who--" "Are you going to pay, or do you think you can keep us waiting forever?" cried the fair young creature, impatiently and sharply. "No more than six piastres," replied Buttons.