o Mrs. Vostrand's house in Florence."

"That so? Well, fact is, I crossed with them; but I came second-cabin,
because I'd spent all my money, and I didn't get acquainted with them
on the ship, but we met in the train coming up last night. Said they had
heard of Lion's Head on the other side from friends. But it was quite
a coincidence, don't you think? I'd like to have them see what this
neighborhood really is; and I wish, Mr. Westover, you'd find out, if you
can, what they'd like. If they're for walking, we could get Whitwell to
personally conduct a party, and if they're for driving, I'd like to show
them a little mountain-coaching myself."

"I don't know whether I'd better not leave the whole thing to you,
Jeff," Westover said, after a moment's reflection. "I don't see exactly
how I could bring the question into a first interview."

"Well, perhaps it would be rather rushing it. But, if I get up
something, you'll come, Mr. Westover?"

"I will, with great pleasure," said Westover, and he went to make his
call.

A half-hour later he was passing the door of the old parlor which Mrs.
Durgin still kept for hers, on his way up to his room, when a sound
of angry voices came out to him. Then the voice of Mrs. Durgin defined
itself in the words: "I'm not goin' to have to ask any more folks for
their rooms on your account, Jeff Durgin--Mr. Westover! Mr. Westover,
is that you?" her voice broke off to call after him as he hurried by,
"Won't you come in here a minute?"

He hesitated, and then Jeff called, "Yes, come in, Mr. Westover."

The painter found him sitting on the old hair-cloth sofa, with his stick
between his hands and knees, confronting his mother, who was rocking
excitedly to and fro in the old hair-cloth easy-chair.

"You know these folks that Jeff's so crazy about?" she demanded.

"Crazy!" cried Jeff, laughing and frowning at the same time. "What's
crazy in wanting to go off on a drive and choose your own party?"

"Do you know them?" Mrs. Durgin repeated to Westover.

"The Vostrands? Why, yes. I knew Mrs. Vostrand in Italy a good many
years ago, and I've just been calling on her and her daughter, who was a
little girl then."

"What kind of folks are they?"

"What kind? Really! Why, they're very charming people--"

"So Jeff seems to think. Any call to show them any particular
attention?"

"I don't know if I quite understand--"

"Why, it's just this. Jeff, here, wants to make a picnic for them, or
so