A room with a view
The Signora had no business to do it," said Miss Bartlett, "no business at
all. She promised us south rooms with a view close together, instead of
which here are north rooms, looking into a courtyard, and a long way
apart. Oh, Lucy!"
"And a Cockney, besides!" said Lucy, who had been further saddened
by the Signora's unexpected accent. "It might be London." She looked at
the two rows of English people who were sitting at the table; at the row
of white bottles of water and red bottles of wine that ran between the
English people; at the portraits of the late Queen and the late Poet Laur-
eate that hung behind the English people, heavily framed; at the notice of
the English church (Rev. Cuthbert Eager, M. A. Oxon.), that was the only
other decoration of the wall. " Charlotte, don't you feel, too, that we
might be in London ? I can hardly believe that all kinds of other things
are just outside. I suppose it is one's being so tired."
"This meat has surely been used for soup," said Miss Bartlett, laying
down her fork.
"I want so to see the Arno. The rooms the Signora promised us in her
letter would have looked over the Arno. The Signora had no business to
do it at all. Oh, it is a shame!"
"Any nook does for me," Miss Bartlett continued; "but it does seem
hard that you shouldn't have a view."
Lucy felt that she had been selfish. " Charlotte, you mustn't spoil me:
of course, you must look over the Arno, too. I meant that. The first va-
cant room in the front—"
———"You must have it," said Miss Bartlett, part of whose travelling
expenses were paid by Lucy's mother—a piece of generosity to which
she made many a tactful allusion.
"No, no. You must have it."
"I insist on it. Your mother would never forgive me, Lucy."
"She would never forgive me."