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1It seemed to Winterbourne that he had been in a manner presented. He got up and stepped slowly toward the young girl,
2throwing away his cigarette. "This little boy and I have made acquaintance," he said, with great civility. In Geneva, as
3he had been perfectly aware, a young man was not at liberty to speak to a young unmarried lady except under certain
4rarely occurring conditions; but here at Vevey, what conditions could be better than these?--a pretty American girl
5coming and standing in front of you in a garden. This pretty American girl, however, on hearing Winterbourne's
6observation, simply glanced at him; she then turned her head and looked over the parapet, at the lake and the opposite
7mountains. He wondered whether he had gone too far, but he decided that he must advance farther, rather than retreat.
8While he was thinking of something else to say, the young lady turned to the little boy again. "I should like to know
9where you got that pole," she said. "I bought it," responded Randolph. "You don't mean to say you're going to take it to
10Italy?" "Yes, I am going to take it to Italy," the child declared. The young girl glanced over the front of her dress
11and smoothed out a knot or two of ribbon. Then she rested her eyes upon the prospect again. "Well, I guess you had
12better leave it somewhere," she said after a moment. "Are you going to Italy?" Winterbourne inquired in a tone of great
13respect. The young lady glanced at him again. "Yes, sir," she replied. And she said nothing more. "Are you--a--going
14over the Simplon?" Winterbourne pursued, a little embarrassed. "I don't know," she said. "I suppose it's some mountain.
15Randolph, what mountain are we going over?" "Going where?" the child demanded. "To Italy," Winterbourne explained. "I
16don't know," said Randolph. "I don't want to go to Italy. I want to go to America." "Oh, Italy is a beautiful place!"
17rejoined the young man. "Can you get candy there?" Randolph loudly inquired. "I hope not," said his sister. "I guess you
18have had enough candy, and mother thinks so too." "I haven't had any for ever so long--for a hundred weeks!" cried the
19boy, still jumping about. The young lady inspected her flounces and smoothed her ribbons again; and Winterbourne
20presently risked an observation upon the beauty of the view. He was ceasing to be embarrassed, for he had begun to
21perceive that she was not in the least embarrassed herself. There had not been the slightest alteration in her charming
22complexion; she was evidently neither offended nor flattered. If she looked another way when he spoke to her, and seemed
23not particularly to hear him, this was simply her habit, her manner. Yet, as he talked a little more and pointed out
24some of the objects of interest in the view, with which she appeared quite unacquainted, she gradually gave him more of
25the benefit of her glance; and then he saw that this glance was perfectly direct and unshrinking. It was not, however,
26what would have been called an immodest glance, for the young girl's eyes were singularly honest and fresh. They were
27wonderfully pretty eyes; and, indeed, Winterbourne had not seen for a long time anything prettier than his fair
28countrywoman's various features--her complexion, her nose, her ears, her teeth. He had a great relish for feminine
29beauty; he was addicted to observing and analyzing it; and as regards this young lady's face he made several
30observations. It was not at all insipid, but it was not exactly expressive; and though it was eminently delicate,
31Winterbourne mentally accused it--very forgivingly--of a want of finish. He thought it very possible that Master
32Randolph's sister was a coquette; he was sure she had a spirit of her own; but in her bright, sweet, superficial little
33visage there was no mockery, no irony. Before long it became obvious that she was much disposed toward conversation. She
34told him that they were going to Rome for the winter--she and her mother and Randolph. She asked him if he was a "real
35American"; she shouldn't have taken him for one; he seemed more like a German--this was said after a little
36hesitation--especially when he spoke. Winterbourne, laughing, answered that he had met Germans who spoke like Americans,
37but that he had not, so far as he remembered, met an American who spoke like a German. Then he asked her if she should
38not be more comfortable in sitting upon the bench which he had just quitted. She answered that she liked standing up and
39walking about; but she presently sat down. She told him she was from New York State--"if you know where that is."
40Winterbourne learned more about her by catching hold of her small, slippery brother and making him stand a few minutes
41by his side. "Tell me your name, my boy," he said. "Randolph C. Miller," said the boy sharply. "And I'll tell you her
42name;" and he leveled his alpenstock at his sister. "You had better wait till you are asked!" said this young lady
43calmly. "I should like very much to know your name," said Winterbourne. "Her name is Daisy Miller!" cried the child.
44"But that isn't her real name; that isn't her name on her cards." "It's a pity you haven't got one of my cards!" said
45Miss Miller. "Her real name is Annie P. Miller," the boy went on. "Ask him HIS name," said his sister, indicating
46Winterbourne. But on this point Randolph seemed perfectly indifferent; he continued to supply information with regard to
47his own family. "My father's name is Ezra B. Miller," he announced. "My father ain't in Europe; my father's in a better
48place than Europe." Winterbourne imagined for a moment that this was the manner in which the child had been taught to
49intimate that Mr. Miller had been removed to the sphere of celestial reward. But Randolph immediately added, "My
50father's in Schenectady. He's got a big business. My father's rich, you bet!" "Well!" ejaculated Miss Miller, lowering
51her parasol and looking at the embroidered border. Winterbourne presently released the child, who departed, dragging his
52alpenstock along the path. "He doesn't like Europe," said the young girl. "He wants to go back." "To Schenectady, you
53mean?" "Yes; he wants to go right home. He hasn't got any boys here. There is one boy here, but he always goes round
54with a teacher; they won't let him play." "And your brother hasn't any teacher?" Winterbourne inquired. "Mother thought
55of getting him one, to travel round with us. There was a lady told her of a very good teacher; an American lady--perhaps
56you know her--Mrs. Sanders. I think she came from Boston. She told her of this teacher, and we thought of getting him to
57travel round with us. But Randolph said he didn't want a teacher traveling round with us. He said he wouldn't have
58lessons 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
59cars--I think her name was Miss Featherstone; perhaps you know her. She wanted to know why I didn't give Randolph
60lessons--give him 'instruction,' she called it. I guess he could give me more instruction than I could give him. He's
61very smart." "Yes," said Winterbourne; "he seems very smart." "Mother's going to get a teacher for him as soon as we get
62to Italy. Can you get good teachers in Italy?" "Very good, I should think," said Winterbourne.
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