As they took their places in the boat, Edith said to Rafael, "Tell us some of your Venetian legends. Is there not one about this lagoon?"

"There are many," he answered, and he told her the story of the three saints—St. Mark, St. George, and St. Theodore—who crossed the lagoon one night, centuries ago, and drove back the evil spirits who would have destroyed the city.

"Our boatmen can tell you of many other strange things which have happened on these canals," he concluded, as they reached the steps in front of the hotel.

Edith ran in, and soon returned with several letters for her mother and herself, which they began reading while Rafael poled slowly back into the canal.

"Listen to this," exclaimed Mrs. Sprague suddenly. "Tom tells me to go to Verona, where his chauffeur is waiting with the automobile, and take it to Florence for him."

"I don't like to leave Venice just as we have begun to enjoy it," said Edith. Then seeing that Rafael looked wonderingly at them, she added, "Tom is my cousin, who is seeing Italy with his friend in an automobile. He said it would take too long to see it with Mother and me."

But Mrs. Sprague began reading aloud,—"We shall be gone into Austria for more than a month, and I know you will enjoy a ride through the Italian country."

Looking up from the letter, she said, "We will go to-morrow."

"How shall we find the chauffeur?" asked Edith.

"He is at the 'Hotel of the Golden Dove,'" said Mrs. Sprague. "There will be no trouble in finding him."

"I prefer the winged lions of Venice to the golden dove of Verona," said Edith, looking up at the column in the Piazzetta.

"You will find a stone lion in the forum in Verona," said the boy.

"In the forum!" exclaimed Edith, "that sounds like Rome."

"Yes," said the boy rather proudly, "there is also an old forum in Verona, but it is used now as a vegetable market. You can take a picture of it with your camera."

"Perhaps I may," answered the girl; "but I shall first take one of Juliet's balcony."

Rafael laughed. It seemed that he, too, had read "Romeo and Juliet," for he said, "You will be much disappointed in that balcony."

"Why so?" asked the girl, with a look of surprise.

"Because the house is not a fine one. It is in a block of tall narrow houses. The street leads from the market-place and is so narrow that the tram-car almost rubs against one's knees.

"Romeo had trouble enough, if he climbed to that balcony," he added. "It is five stories above the sidewalk, and is hardly big enough for a man to stand in."

"Perhaps Juliet's balcony overlooked the courtyard," Mrs. Sprague suggested.

"As for the courtyard, that was full of worn-out carriages when I saw it," Rafael answered, "It was not a good place for a lover to hide."

"I don't want to go to Verona and have all my dreams shattered," mourned the girl. "Shall I be disappointed in Juliet's tomb, too?"

The boy laughed again. "You can pick an ivy leaf from the plant near-by. Is not that what your country-women do?" he asked.

Edith tossed her head. "Of course," she answered. "I have a large collection of ivy leaves myself,—one from every castle in England and Ireland."

The boy looked mischievous. "One from Juliet's tomb will be most precious of all," he told her, "because ivy grows not so easily in Italy as in England."

"Is there anything else to be seen in Verona?" asked Mrs. Sprague.

"There is a colosseum in Verona which is second only to the one in Rome, Signora," Rafael replied.

But Edith shook her head. "That cannot be," she said. "We have one in the United States which we think is next to the Roman one in importance."

It was the boy's turn to show surprise. "How can that be?" he asked quickly. "The one in Verona is very old, and has seen many exciting battles between gladiators."

"Well," persisted the girl, "our stadium in Cambridge, where the men of Harvard University fight their foot-ball battles with men of other colleges, has seen just as interesting contests as any colosseum in Europe. Thousands and thousands of people have cheered the victors in our country as well as yours," and Edith's cheeks flushed, as she thought of some of the stirring foot-ball games which she had witnessed.

The boy looked at her in amazement. "I did not know that you ever saw such inspiring sights in your country," he said humbly.

"Indeed we do," said Edith, glad to see that Rafael was impressed.

"How long will it take to reach Verona from Venice?" asked Mrs. Sprague.

"If you leave here at the fifteen hours, you will arrive before sunset," he answered.

"At the fifteen hours," repeated Edith with a laugh. "What a funny way to say three o'clock. Your way of counting time up to the twenty-four hours is the queerest thing in Italy."

"It seems the most natural thing in the world to me," said her mother. "There are twenty-four hours in the day. Why should we not name each one?"

Then she arranged that Rafael should take them to the station in his boat, on the next day, at the fifteen hours.