"
When the Marchesa had got what she wanted, San Miniato sat down beside
Beatrice at the piano, in the sitting room.
"Donna Beatrice gentilissima," he began, "will you deign to tell me
whether you prefer the moon to Chinese lanterns, or Chinese lanterns to
the moon?"
"To wear?" asked the young girl with a laugh.
"If you please, of course. Anything would be becoming to you--but I mean
as a question of light. Would you prefer a dinner by moonlight on the
rocks of Tragara with a couple of mandolins in the distance, or would
you like better a party in the hotel gardens with an illumination of
paper lanterns? It is a most important question, I assure you, and must
be decided very quickly, because the moon is full to-morrow."
"What a ridiculous question!" exclaimed Beatrice, laughing again.
"Why ridiculous?"
"Because you ought to know the answer well enough. Imagine comparing the
moon with Chinese lanterns!"
"Your mother prefers the latter."
"Oh, mamma--of course! She is so practical. She would prefer carriage
lamps on the trees--gas if possible! When are we going to Tragara? Where
is it? Which boat shall we take? Oh, it is too delightful! Can we not go
to-night?"
"We can do anything which Donna Beatrice likes," answered San Miniato.
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