The Argosy — page 40: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

30 PRINCESS ELEANOR. XITI. FLORENCE, January, 186—. OW surprised you will be, Amy, when, running over this letter your eye meets names I had thought to leave behind me at home—Werdan, Arsent. Both have been here for more than a fort- night, and both are here for the sake of your unworthy friend. My not narrating to you more of the first week I passed in this city, must be solely ascribed to the arrival of these gentlemen, who so per- secute us with invitations for picnics and rides into the country, that Emest has been obliged to assign two days in every week to each of them, on which they may play the maitre des plaisirs, and do with us what they like. They have brought a young man with them, the son of a friend of my mother’s, who also takes part in our amusements. Let me present him to you: Scipione di San Giuliano. Cousin Dorothy was quite in an ecstacy of joy when the two friends from home paid their first visit. They were scarcely gone when she settled herself comfortably by the fire, and began talking. “¢ How delightful of them to follow us in this way!” criedshe. ‘It is for you I am especially glad, Eleanor. You will be no longer obliged to look for company to the artist alone, and can talk of things more pleasant and natural to you than that everlasting discourse on art. I do not mean to say that he is not a very nice young man indeed, but he is sorely in need of a final polish. I will see what I can do for him.” If my dear cousin would only be a little more frank, and openly confess that she now hopes to have the young artist all to herself, and that the others will be constantly at my side ! That was my first thought. But after more reflection on the subject, I felt that she was not so very far wrong after all. That I have accustomed myself to a new tone of conversation, and also to new society, I see by the effort it now costs me to listen to the talk of Werdan and Arsent. I am no longer ready to answer every clever remark, and even forget to ask for the small chronicles of our town, which must offer some novelties since our departure. So I have come to the conclusion that I have occupied myself more with art than was good for me. Once so far in my reflection, I began to think of an excursion planned for the next day with less reluctance thanI had done until then. I went, and comicbooks.com