But who shall tell the different impression on Dolly's mind, when the city was really reached and the gondola entered one of those narrow water-ways between rows of palaces. The rain had begun to come down again, it is true; a watery veil hung over the buildings, drops plashed busily into the canal; there were no beautiful effects of sunlight and shadow; and Lawrence himself declared it was a miserable coming to Venice. But Dolly was in a charmed state. She noted eagerly every strange detail; bridges, boats, people; was hardly sorry for the rain, she found so much to delight her in spite of it.
"What's our man making such noises for?" cried Mrs. Copley.
"Just to give warning before he turns a corner," Lawrence explained, "lest he should run against another gondola."
"What would happen then? Is the water deep enough to drown? It would be horrid water to be drowned in!" said Mrs. Copley shuddering.
"No danger, mother; we are not going to try it," Dolly said soothingly.
"Nobody is ever drowned in Venetian canals," said Lawrence. "They will carry us safe to our hotel, Mrs. Copley; never fear."
"But hasn't the water risen?" she exclaimed presently.
"It is up to the steps of that house there."
"It is up to all the steps, mother, so that people can get into their gondolas at their very door; don't you see?"
"It goes ahead of everything!" exclaimed Rupert, who had scarce spoken.
"It's like being in a fairy story."
"I can't see much beside water," said Mrs. Copley. "Water above and water below. It must be unhealthy. And I thought Venice had such beautiful old palaces. I don't see any of 'em."
"We have passed several of them," said Lawrence.
"I can see nothing but black walls--except those queer painted sticks; what are _they_ for?"
"To the gondolas in waiting."
"What are they painted so for?"
"The colours belonging to the family arms."
"Whose family?"
"The family to whom the house belongs."
"Dolly," said Mrs. Copley, "we shall not want to stay here long. We might go on and try Rome. Mrs. Thayer says spring-time is the best at Naples."
"It will all look very different, Mrs. Copley, when you see it by sunlight," said Lawrence. "Wait a little."
Dolly would have enjoyed every inch of the way, if her mother would have let her. To her eyes the novel strangeness of the scene was entrancing. Not beautiful, certainly; not beautiful yet; by mist and rain and darkness how should it be? but she relished the novelty. The charmed stillness pleased her; the gliding gondolas; the but half revealed houses and palaces; the odd conveyance in which she herself was seated; the wonderful water-ways, the strange cries of the gondoliers. It was not half spoiled for her, as it was; and she trusted the morning would bring for her mother a better mood.
Something of a better mood was produced that evening when Mrs. Copley found herself in a warm room, before a good supper. But the next morning it still rained. Dark skies, thick atmosphere, a gloomy outlook upon ways where no traveller for mere pleasure was to be seen; none but people bent on business of one sort or another. Yet everything was delightful to Dolly's eyes; the novelty was perfect, the picturesqueness undeniable. What she could see of the lagoon, of the vessels at anchor, the flying gondolas, the canals and the bridges over them, and the beautiful Riva, put Dolly in a rapture. Her eye roved, her heart swelled. "O mother!" she exclaimed, "if father would only come!"
"What then?" said Mrs Copley dismally. "He would take us away, I hope."
"Oh, but not until we have seen Venice."
"_I_ have seen Venice enough to content me. It is the wettest place I was ever in my life."
"Why, it rains, mother. Any place is wet when it rains."
"This would be wet at all times. I think the ground must have sunk, Dolly; people would never have built in the water so. The ground must have sunk."
"No, mother; I guess not. It has been always just so."
"What made them build here then, when there is all the earth beside?
What did they take to the water for? And what are the houses standing on, any way?"
"Islands, mother, between which these canals run. I told you before."
"I should think the people hadn't any sense."
And nothing would tempt Mrs. Copley out that day. Of course Dolly must stay at home too, though she would most gladly have gone about through the rainy, silent city, in one of those silent gondolas, and feed her eyes at every step. However, she made herself and made her mother as comfortable as she could; got out her painting and worked at Rupert's portrait, which was so successful that Lawrence begged she would begin upon him at once.
"You know the conditions," she said.
"I accept them. Finish one of me so good as that, and I will send it to my mother and ask her what she will give for it."
"But not tell her?"----
"Certainly not."
"I find," said Dolly slowly, "that it is a very great compliment for a lady to paint a gentleman's likeness."
"Why?"
"She has to give so much attention to the lines of his face. I shouldn't like to paint some people. But I'll do anybody, for a consideration."
"Your words are not flattering," said Lawrence, "even if your actions are."
"No," said Dolly. "Compliments are not in my way."
And though she made a beginning upon St. Leger's picture, and studied the lines of his face accordingly, he did not feel flattered. Dolly's clear, intelligent eyes looked at him as steadily and as unmovedly as if he had been a Titian.
The next day brought a change. If Dolly had watched from her balcony with interest the day before, now she was breathless with what she found. The sun was shining bright, a breeze was rippling the waters of the lagoon, and gently fluttering a sail and a streamer here and there; the beautiful water was enlivened with vessels of all kinds and of many lands, black gondolas darted about; and the buildings lining the shores of the lagoon stood to view in their beauty and magnificence and variety before Dolly's eye; the Doge's palace, here and there a clock tower, here and there the bridge over a side canal. "O mother!" she cried, "we have seen nothing like this! nothing like this!"
"I am glad it don't rain at least," said Mrs. Copley. "But it can't be healthy here, Dolly; it must be damp."
And when they all met at breakfast, and plans for the day began to be discussed, she declared that she did not want to see anything.
"Not St. Mark's?" said Lawrence.
"What is St. Mark's? It is just a church. I am sure we have seen churches enough."
"There is only one St. Mark's in the world."
"I don't care if there were a dozen. Is it better than the church we went to see--at that village near Wiesbaden?"