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"Are there many Jewish ladies who aspire to be baptized and become Catholics, as Bourget says?" asked Susanna.
"Bah!" exclaimed Caesar.
"You do not believe that either?"
"No, it strikes me as a piece of navety in this good soul of a novelist. To become a Catholic, I don't believe requires more than some few pesetas."
"You are detestable, as a Cardinal's nephew."
"I mean that I don't perceive that there are any obstacles to prevent anybody from becoming a Catholic, as there are to prevent his becoming rich. What a high ambition, to aspire to be a Catholic! While n.o.body anywhere does anything but laugh at Catholics; and it has become an axiom: 'A Catholic country is a country bound for certain ruin.'"
Kennedy burst out laughing.
Susanna said that she had no real faith, but that she did have a great enthusiasm for churches and for choirs, for the smell of incense and religious music.
"Spain is the place for all that," said Kennedy. "Here in Italy the Church ceremonies are too gay. Not so in Spain; at Toledo, at Burgos, there is an austerity in the cathedrals, an unworldliness...."
"Yes," said Caesar; "unhappily we have nothing left there but ceremonies. At the same time, the people are dying of hunger."
They discussed whether it is better to live in a decorative, esthetic sphere, or in a more humble and practical one; and Susanna and Kennedy stood up for the superiority of an esthetic life.
As they left the hotel Caesar said to Kennedy:
"Allow me a question. Have you any intentions concerning Mrs.
Marchmont?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Simply because I shouldn't go to see her often, so as not to be in the way."
"Thank you ever so much. But I have no intentions in relation to her.
She is too beautiful and too rich a woman for a modest employee like me to fix his eyes on."
"Bah! A modest diplomat! That is absurd. It is merely that you don't take to her."
"No. It's because she is a queen. There ought to be some defect in her face to make her human."
"Yes; that's true. She is too much of a prize beauty."
"That is the defect in the Yankee women; they have no character. The weight of tradition might be fatal to industry and modern life, but it is the one thing that creates the spirituality of the old countries.
Beyond contradiction American women have intelligence, beauty, energy, attractive flashes, but they lack that particular thing created by centuries: character. At times they have very charming impulses. Have you heard the story about Prince Torlonia's wife?"
"No."
"Well, Torlonia's present wife was an American girl worth millions, who came with letters to the prince. He took her about Rome, and at the end of some days he said to her, supposing that the beautiful American had the intention of marrying: 'I will introduce some young n.o.blemen to you'; and she answered: 'Don't introduce anybody to me; because you please me more than anybody'; and she married him."
"It was a pretty impulse."
"Yes, Americans do things like that on the spur of the moment. But if you saw a Spanish woman behave that way, it would seem wrong to you."
Chattering amicably they came to the Piazza Esedra.
"Would you care to have lunch with me?" said Kennedy.
"Just what I was going to propose to you."
"I eat alone."
"I do not. I eat with my sister."
"The Marchesa di Vaccarone?"
"Yes."
"Then you must pardon me if I accept your invitation, for I am very anxious to meet her."
"Then come along."
_RUSKIN AND THE PHILISTINES_
They reached the hotel and Caesar introduced his friend to Laura.
"He is an admirer of yours."
"A respectful admirer... from a distance," explained Kennedy.
"But are there admirers of that sort?" asked Laura, laughing.
"Here you have one," said the Englishman. "I have known you by sight ever since I came to Rome, and have never had the pleasure of speaking to you until today."
"And have you been here a long time?"
"Nearly two years."
"And do you like Rome; eh?"
"I should say so! At first, I didn't, I must admit. It was a disappointment to me. I had dreamed so much about Rome!" and Kennedy talked of the books and guides he had read about the Eternal City.
"I must admit that I had never dreamed about Rome," said Caesar. "And you boast of that?" asked Laura.
"No, I don't boast of it, I merely state it. I understand how agreeable it is to know things. Caesar died here! Cicero made speeches here! Saint Peter stumbled over this stone! It is fine! But not knowing things is also very comfortable. I am rather like a barbarian walking indifferently among monuments he knows nothing about."
"Doesn't such an idea make you ashamed?"
"No, why? It would be a bother to me to know a lot of things offhand. To pa.s.s by a mountain and know how it was thrown up, what it is composed of, what its flora and fauna are; to get to a town and know its history in detail.... What things to be interested in! It's tiresome! I hate history too much. I far prefer to be ignorant of everything, and especially the past, and from time to time to offer myself a capricious, arbitrary explanation."