Italian letters of a diplomat's wife, January-May 1880, February-April, 1904 . t moved off. Some of theyoung men—principally officers—were taking preliminarygallops in every direction, and jumping backward and for-ward over a large ditch. One of them knocked down anEnglishwoman—at least I dont think he really knockedher, but he alighted so near her that she was frightened,and slipped getting out of his way. We stopped to speakto her, but she said she wasnt at all hurt, and had friendswith her. The master of the hounds—Marchese Roc-cagiovine—didnt look very pleased, and I should think alarge, m
Italian letters of a diplomat's wife, January-May 1880, February-April, 1904 . t moved off. Some of theyoung men—principally officers—were taking preliminarygallops in every direction, and jumping backward and for-ward over a large ditch. One of them knocked down anEnglishwoman—at least I dont think he really knockedher, but he alighted so near her that she was frightened,and slipped getting out of his way. We stopped to speakto her, but she said she wasnt at all hurt, and had friendswith her. The master of the hounds—Marchese Roc-cagiovine—didnt look very pleased, and I should think alarge, motley field, with a good many women and care-less riders, would be most trying to a real sportsman,such as he is. Giovanni Borghese told me there weretwo hundred people riding, and I can quite believe it. We had a delightful day yesterday, but rather afatiguing one—I am still tired. We made an excursion(a family party—Bessie, Josephine, her two children,Mr. Virgo and two of his friends—a Catholic priest anda student preparing for orders—all Englishmen). We. I904J OF A DIPLOMATS WIFE 267 went by train to Frascati, and from there to Tusculum,carrying our breakfast with us. We passed the Httle Cam-pagna station (Ciampino) where we have stopped so you remember the old crazy-looking station, and thestation-master, yellow and shivering, and burned up withfever. Now it is quite a busy little place, people gettingon and off the trains and one or two brisk porters. Thearrival at Frascati was a sight. We were instantly sur-rounded by a crowd of donkey-boys and carriages—nicelittle victorias with red flowers in the horses heads andfeathers in the coachmens hats—all talking at the top oftheir voices; but between Mr. Virgo and Pietro, Jose-phines Italian footman, who had charge of the valisewith the luncheon, we soon came to terms, and declinedall carriages, taking three or four donkeys. It isnt a long walk to Tusculum, and Josephine and Iboth preferred walkin
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