ceiling above. In different parts of this
table there were small parties of gentlemen and ladies, engaged in
taking late breakfasts.

Rollo walked down on one side of the table. There was on that side a
party consisting of a lady and gentleman with two children, a girl and a
boy,--all dressed in such a manner as to give them a foreign air. The
gentleman was speaking to the waiter in French when Rollo passed by the
party. The boy was sitting next to one of the great pillars. These
pillars were so near the table that each one of them took the place of a
seat.

Rollo walked on and took his seat next beyond the pillar. Of course the
pillar was between him and the boy.

In a few minutes a waiter came to ask what Rollo would have for
breakfast. He asked in French. Rollo gave an order for breakfast for
two. He said that his uncle would be down in a few minutes.

"Very well, sir," said the waiter.

As soon as the waiter had gone, Rollo looked round the other way, and
he saw that the other boy was peeping at him from behind the pillar. The
boy laughed when he caught Rollo's eye, and Rollo laughed too. The boy
seemed to be about nine years old.

A moment afterwards the boy began to peep at Rollo from behind the
pillar on the back side, and then again on the front side, thus playing
a sort of bo-peep. In this way, in a few minutes the two boys began to
feel quite acquainted with each other, without, however, having spoken a
word. They would, perhaps, have continued this game longer, but just at
this moment the breakfast for the party came in, and the boy set himself
at work eating a warm roll, buttered, and drinking his coffee.

"Can you speak French?" asked Rollo,--of course speaking French himself
in asking the question.

"Yes," said the boy, "but not very well."

"Then," said Rollo to himself, "he cannot be a French boy. Perhaps he is
an Italian boy."

"Italian?" asked Rollo.

"No," said the boy, "not at all. All I know of Italian is _grazia_."[4]

[Footnote 4: Pronounced _gratzia_.]

"What does that mean?" asked Rollo.

"It means, Thank you," said the boy.

"He must be a German boy, I think," said Rollo to himself.

After pausing a moment, Rollo ventured to ask the boy what his name was.

"Charles Beekman," said the boy. He pronounced the name in so English a
fashion, that Rollo perceived at once that he must speak English, so he
changed from French to English himself, and said,--

"So you are an Englis