up" Verona and Padua that she had no time for the Uffizi Gallery.
In Verona and Padua she was absorbed in Hare's "Venice,"
vaccinating herself, so to speak, with information, that it might
not steal upon, and infect her, unawares. If there is anything
that Miss Van abhors, it is knowing a thing without knowing that
she knows it; while for me, the most charming knowledge is the sort
that comes by unconscious absorption, like the free grace of God.

We intended to enter Venice in orthodox fashion, by moonlight, and
began to consult about trains when we were in Milan. The porter
said that there was only one train between the eight and the
twelve, and gave me a pamphlet on the subject, but Salemina objects
to an early start, and Miss Van refuses to arrive anywhere after
dusk, so it is fortunate that the distances are not great.

They have a curious way of reckoning time in Italy, for I found
that the train leaving Milan at eight-thirty was scheduled to
arrive at ten minutes past eighteen.

"You could never sit up until then, Miss Van," I said; "but, on the
other hand, if we leave later, to please Salemina, say at ten in
the morning, we do not arrive until eight minutes before twenty-
one! I haven't the faintest idea what time that will really be,
but it sounds too late for three defenceless women--all of them
unmarried--to be prowling about in a strange city."

It proved on investigation, however, that twenty-one o'clock is
only nine in Christian language (that is, one's mother tongue), so
we united in choosing that hour as being the most romantic
possible, and there was a full yellow moon as we arrived in the