A lemonade, San Miniato, for the love of heaven! My throat is parched with this talking." 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.
"But if you will listen to me, I will explain why to-morrow would be better.