reward. But Randolph immediately added, "My
father's in Schenectady. He's got a big business. My father's rich, you
bet!"

"Well!" ejaculated Miss Miller, lowering her parasol and looking at
the embroidered border. Winterbourne presently released the child,
who departed, dragging his alpenstock along the path. "He doesn't like
Europe," said the young girl. "He wants to go back."

"To Schenectady, you mean?"

"Yes; he wants to go right home. He hasn't got any boys here. There is
one boy here, but he always goes round with a teacher; they won't let
him play."

"And your brother hasn't any teacher?" Winterbourne inquired.

"Mother thought of getting him one, to travel round with us. There was a
lady told her of a very good teacher; an American lady--perhaps you know
her--Mrs. Sanders. I think she came from Boston. She told her of this
teacher, and we thought of getting him to travel round with us. But
Randolph said he didn't want a teacher traveling round with us. He said
he wouldn't have lessons when he was in the cars. And we ARE in the cars
about half the time. There was an English lady we met in the cars--I
think her name was Miss Featherstone; perhaps you know her. She wanted
to know why I didn't give Randolph lessons--give him 'instruction,' she
called it. I guess he could give me more instruction than I could give
him. He's very smart."

"Yes," said Winterbourne; "he seems very smart."

"Mother's going to get a teacher for him as soon as we get to Italy. Can
you get good teachers in Italy?"

"Very good, I should think," said Winterbourne.

"Or else she's going to find some school. He ought to learn some more.
He's only nine. He's going to college." And in this way Miss Miller
continued to converse upon the affairs of her family and upon other
topics. She sat there with her extremely pretty hands, ornamented with
very brilliant rings, folded in her lap, and with her pretty eyes now
resting upon those of Winterbourne, now wandering over the garden, the
people who passed by, and the beautiful view. She talked to Winterbourne
as if she had known him a long time. He found it very pleasant. It was
many years since he had heard a young girl talk so much. It might have
been said of this unknown young lady, who had come and sat down beside
him upon a bench, that she chattered. She was very quiet; she sat in a
charming, tranquil attitude; but her lips and her eyes were constantly
moving. She had a soft, slender, a