uttered ejaculations of wonder, and declared with one voice that he
spoke German splendidly; but if he preferred to speak French, he
might make use of that language, as they both understood it and spoke
it well. Sanin at once availed himself of this suggestion. 'Sanin!
Sanin!' The ladies would never have expected that a Russian surname
could be so easy to pronounce. His Christian name--'Dimitri'--they
liked very much too. The elder lady observed that in her youth she had
heard a fine opera--Demetrio e Polibio'--but that 'Dimitri' was much
nicer than 'Demetrio.' In this way Sanin talked for about an hour. The
ladies on their side initiated him into all the details of their own
life. The talking was mostly done by the mother, the lady with grey
hair. Sanin learnt from her that her name was Leonora Roselli; that
she had lost her husband, Giovanni Battista Roselli, who had settled
in Frankfort as a confectioner twenty--five years ago; that Giovanni
Battista had come from Vicenza and had been a most excellent, though
fiery and irascible man, and a republican withal! At those words
Signora Roselli pointed to his portrait, painted in oil-colours, and
hanging over the sofa. It must be presumed that the painter, 'also
a republican!' as Signora Roselli observed with a sigh, had not
fully succeeded in catching a likeness, for in his portrait the late
Giovanni Battista appeared as a morose and gloomy brigand, after the
style of Rinaldo Rinaldini! Signora Roselli herself had come from
'the ancient and splendid city of Parma where there is the wonderful
cupola, painted by the immortal Correggio!' But from her long
residence in Germany she had become almost completely Germanised.
Then she added, mournfully shaking her head, that all she had left
was _this_ daughter and _this_ son (pointing to each in turn with her
finger); that the daughter's name was Gemma, and the son's Emilio;
that they were both very good and obedient children--especially Emilio
... ('Me not obedient!' her daughter put in at that point. 'Oh,