rises by the
sudden disclosure of some unexpected talent or power.

"But you said 'baggage,'" he commented.

"Indeed I did," said I.

V

Our new hotel, we discovered next morning, was duplicated in name by
another, four doors down the street. During the day we heard the reason
for this. A domestic difficulty had overtaken husband and wife and the
two had separated, each keeping an interest in the serviceable name and
a frontage on the familiar street. We were in the husband's hotel, under
the very discreet ministrations of the young woman who had caused the
break. "Do you quite like this?" Raymond had asked me. But he became
reassured on seeing in the guest-book the names of two or three
well-known and sufficiently respected compatriots. By the next day he
was able to cast on Miss Brough, as she flitted (still discreetly)
through her functions, the eye of a qualified idealization. I am sure he
would never have viewed indulgently any such situation at home. But the
poor, patient, cautious girl helped him toward realizing the
sophistications and corruptions of European society, and so he welcomed
her. But I believe he avoided speaking to her. She may have been hurt,
or she may have been amused; or neither. Yet, after all, this
_contretemps_ was for him, I felt, but a prosaic substitute for
something richer. A similar situation in Naples, say, taken at close
range, might have quickened his interest considerably.

Next day there was something different for him to report. He had gone
into a courtyard off Holborn, drawn by the sound of a hurdy-gurdy. Four
or five little girls were dancing, and some older women stood looking
on. For a few moments he looked on too, probably with an effect of aloof
and amused patronage. But patronage was not for that court.

Presently one of the younger women, who wore a hat full of messy plumes
and carried a small fish in each hand by the tail, stepped up and
invited him to trip a measure with her. "Trip a measure"--it has a fine
Elizabethan or Jacobean sound, whether she used the precise expression
or not. But Raymond demurred; at first politely; later, perhaps not so
politely. But he was whisked into the dance and made to take several
turns. He was so embarrassed that he called it all an "adventure."
Possibly it was meant for a lesson in manners.

Thus Raymond in England. As he said, he liked the Continent better. I
hope he showed to better advantage there, and I should have liked t