rmured Winterbourne.

She looked at him a moment and then burst into a little laugh. "I like
to make you say those things! You're a queer mixture!"

In the castle, after they had landed, the subjective element decidedly
prevailed. Daisy tripped about the vaulted chambers, rustled her skirts
in the corkscrew staircases, flirted back with a pretty little cry and
a shudder from the edge of the oubliettes, and turned a singularly
well-shaped ear to everything that Winterbourne told her about the
place. But he saw that she cared very little for feudal antiquities and
that the dusky traditions of Chillon made but a slight impression upon
her. They had the good fortune to have been able to walk about without
other companionship than that of the custodian; and Winterbourne
arranged with this functionary that they should not be hurried--that
they should linger and pause wherever they chose. The custodian
interpreted the bargain generously--Winterbourne, on his side, had been
generous--and ended by leaving them quite to themselves. Miss Miller's
observations were not remarkable for logical consistency; for anything
she wanted to say she was sure to find a pretext. She found a great many
pretexts in the rugged embrasures of Chillon for asking Winterbourne
sudden questions about himself--his family, his previous history, his
tastes, his habits, his intentions--and for supplying information upon
corresponding points in her own personality. Of her own tastes, habits,
and intentions Miss Miller was prepared to give the most definite, and
indeed the most favorable account.

"Well, I hope you know enough!" she said to her companion, after he had
told her the history of the unhappy Bonivard. "I never saw a man that
knew so much!" The history of Bonivard had evidently, as they say, gone
into one ear and out of the other. But Daisy went on to say that she
wished Winterbourne would travel with them and "go round" with them;
they might know something, in that case. "Don't you want to come
and teach Randolph?" she asked. Winterbourne said that nothing
could possibly please him so much, but that he unfortunately other
occupations. "Other occupations? I don't believe it!" said Miss Daisy.
"What do you mean? You are not in business." The young man admitted that
he was not in business; but he had engagements which, even within a day
or two, would force him to go back to Geneva. "Oh, bother!" she said; "I
don't believe it!" and she began to talk