e himself
had been like this in his infancy, for he had been brought to Europe at
about this age.

"Here comes my sister!" cried the child in a moment. "She's an American
girl."

Winterbourne looked along the path and saw a beautiful young lady
advancing. "American girls are the best girls," he said cheerfully to
his young companion.

"My sister ain't the best!" the child declared. "She's always blowing at
me."

"I imagine that is your fault, not hers," said Winterbourne. The young
lady meanwhile had drawn near. She was dressed in white muslin, with a
hundred frills and flounces, and knots of pale-colored ribbon. She was
bareheaded, but she balanced in her hand a large parasol, with a deep
border of embroidery; and she was strikingly, admirably pretty. "How
pretty they are!" thought Winterbourne, straightening himself in his
seat, as if he were prepared to rise.

The young lady paused in front of his bench, near the parapet of the
garden, which overlooked the lake. The little boy had now converted his
alpenstock into a vaulting pole, by the aid of which he was springing
about in the gravel and kicking it up not a little.

"Randolph," said the young lady, "what ARE you doing?"

"I'm going up the Alps," replied Randolph. "This is the way!" And he
gave another little jump, scattering the pebbles about Winterbourne's
ears.

"That's the way they come down," said Winterbourne.

"He's an American man!" cried Randolph, in his little hard voice.

The young lady gave no heed to this announcement, but looked straight
at her brother. "Well, I guess you had better be quiet," she simply
observed.

It seemed to Winterbourne that he had been in a manner presented. He
got up and stepped slowly toward the young girl, throwing away his
cigarette. "This little boy and I have made acquaintance," he said, with
great civility. In Geneva, as he had been perfectly aware, a young
man was not at liberty to speak to a young unmarried lady except under
certain rarely occurring conditions; but here at Vevey, what conditions
could be better than these?--a pretty American girl coming and standing
in front of you in a garden. This pretty American girl, however, on
hearing Winterbourne's observation, simply glanced at him; she then
turned her head and looked over the parapet, at the lake and the
opposite mountains. He wondered whether he had gone too far, but he
decided that he must advance farther, rather than retreat. While he was
thin