I shan't have any clothes but I
don't care; I shall not worry over that. We are going to see New York and
then go right out to California, where Tom is going on to Mexico to kill
tarpons or shoot turtles or whatever they do there.
The rest of our journey after Tonnerre was simple. At each place Mr. Renour
was just in front of us, and showed us the way, and we grew quite to feel
he was one of our party. Uncle John is devoted to him--and Aunt Maria, too.
She says considering he speaks a foreign language--he does almost!--it is
wonderful how he makes her hear!
Avignon interested me. It looks so wally and fortified, but I am greatly
disappointed, the romantic story of Petrarque and his Laure is all
nonsense. I find Laure had eleven children in about fifteen years, the
guide said, and Petrarque continued making sonnets to her, never minding
that a bit. Now do you believe it, Mamma? A man to stay in love for twenty
years with a woman who kept on having eleven children all the image of the
husband as good as gold! I don't! Petrarque was probably some tiresome prig
like all poets, and thought her a suitable peg to hang his verses on.
Mr. Renour and I are so friendly. He is not with us now because he had to
go to Monte Carlo, so he does not yet know I am going to America.
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