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1Eugenio had looked at Winterbourne from head to foot; he now bowed gravely to the young lady. "I have the honor to
2inform mademoiselle that luncheon is upon the table." Miss Miller slowly rose. "See here, Eugenio!" she said; "I'm going
3to that old castle, anyway." "To the Chateau de Chillon, mademoiselle?" the courier inquired. "Mademoiselle has made
4arrangements?" he added in a tone which struck Winterbourne as very impertinent. Eugenio's tone apparently threw, even
5to Miss Miller's own apprehension, a slightly ironical light upon the young girl's situation. She turned to
6Winterbourne, blushing a little--a very little. "You won't back out?" she said. "I shall not be happy till we go!" he
7protested. "And you are staying in this hotel?" she went on. "And you are really an American?" The courier stood looking
8at Winterbourne offensively. The young man, at least, thought his manner of looking an offense to Miss Miller; it
9conveyed an imputation that she "picked up" acquaintances. "I shall have the honor of presenting to you a person who
10will tell you all about me," he said, smiling and referring to his aunt. "Oh, well, we'll go some day," said Miss
11Miller. And she gave him a smile and turned away. She put up her parasol and walked back to the inn beside Eugenio.
12Winterbourne stood looking after her; and as she moved away, drawing her muslin furbelows over the gravel, said to
13himself that she had the tournure of a princess. He had, however, engaged to do more than proved feasible, in promising
14to present his aunt, Mrs. Costello, to Miss Daisy Miller. As soon as the former lady had got better of her headache, he
15waited upon her in her apartment; and, after the proper inquiries in regard to her health, he asked her if she had
16observed in the hotel an American family--a mamma, a daughter, and a little boy. "And a courier?" said Mrs. Costello.
17"Oh yes, I have observed them. Seen them--heard them--and kept out of their way." Mrs. Costello was a widow with a
18fortune; a person of much distinction, who frequently intimated that, if she were not so dreadfully liable to sick
19headaches, she would probably have left a deeper impress upon her time. She had a long, pale face, a high nose, and a
20great deal of very striking white hair, which she wore in large puffs and rouleaux over the top of her head. She had two
21sons married in New York and another who was now in Europe. This young man was amusing himself at Hamburg, and, though
22he was on his travels, was rarely perceived to visit any particular city at the moment selected by his mother for her
23own appearance there. Her nephew, who had come up to Vevey expressly to see her, was therefore more attentive than those
24who, as she said, were nearer to her. He had imbibed at Geneva the idea that one must always be attentive to one's aunt.
25Mrs. Costello had not seen him for many years, and she was greatly pleased with him, manifesting her approbation by
26initiating him into many of the secrets of that social sway which, as she gave him to understand, she exerted in the
27American capital. She admitted that she was very exclusive; but, if he were acquainted with New York, he would see that
28one had to be. And her picture of the minutely hierarchical constitution of the society of that city, which she
29presented to him in many different lights, was, to Winterbourne's imagination, almost oppressively striking. He
30immediately perceived, from her tone, that Miss Daisy Miller's place in the social scale was low. "I am afraid you don't
31approve of them," he said. "They are very common," Mrs. Costello declared. "They are the sort of Americans that one does
32one's duty by not--not accepting." "Ah, you don't accept them?" said the young man. "I can't, my dear Frederick. I would
33if I could, but I can't." "The young girl is very pretty," said Winterbourne in a moment. "Of course she's pretty. But
34she is very common." "I see what you mean, of course," said Winterbourne after another pause. "She has that charming
35look that they all have," his aunt resumed. "I can't think where they pick it up; and she dresses in perfection--no, you
36don't know how well she dresses. I can't think where they get their taste." "But, my dear aunt, she is not, after all, a
37Comanche savage." "She is a young lady," said Mrs. Costello, "who has an intimacy with her mamma's courier." "An
38intimacy with the courier?" the young man demanded. "Oh, the mother is just as bad! They treat the courier like a
39familiar friend--like a gentleman. I shouldn't wonder if he dines with them. Very likely they have never seen a man with
40such good manners, such fine clothes, so like a gentleman. He probably corresponds to the young lady's idea of a count.
41He sits with them in the garden in the evening. I think he smokes." Winterbourne listened with interest to these
42disclosures; they helped him to make up his mind about Miss Daisy. Evidently she was rather wild. "Well," he said, "I am
43not a courier, and yet she was very charming to me." "You had better have said at first," said Mrs. Costello with
44dignity, "that you had made her acquaintance." "We simply met in the garden, and we talked a bit." "Tout bonnement! And
45pray what did you say?" "I said I should take the liberty of introducing her to my admirable aunt." "I am much obliged
46to you." "It was to guarantee my respectability," said Winterbourne. "And pray who is to guarantee hers?" "Ah, you are
47cruel!" said the young man. "She's a very nice young girl." "You don't say that as if you believed it," Mrs. Costello
48observed. "She is completely uncultivated," Winterbourne went on. "But she is wonderfully pretty, and, in short, she is
49very nice. To prove that I believe it, I am going to take her to the Chateau de Chillon." "You two are going off there
50together? I should say it proved just the contrary. How long had you known her, may I ask, when this interesting project
51was formed? You haven't been twenty-four hours in the house." "I have known her half an hour!" said Winterbourne,
52smiling. "Dear me!" cried Mrs. Costello. "What a dreadful girl!" Her nephew was silent for some moments. "You really
53think, then," he began earnestly, and with a desire for trustworthy information--"you really think that--" But he paused
54again. "Think what, sir?" said his aunt. "That she is the sort of young lady who expects a man, sooner or later, to
55carry her off?" "I haven't the least idea what such young ladies expect a man to do. But I really think that you had
56better not meddle with little American girls that are uncultivated, as you call them. You have lived too long out of the
57country. You will be sure to make some great mistake. You are too innocent." "My dear aunt, I am not so innocent," said
58Winterbourne, smiling and curling his mustache. "You are guilty too, then!" Winterbourne continued to curl his mustache
59meditatively. "You won't let the poor girl know you then?" he asked at last. "Is it literally true that she is going to
60the Chateau de Chillon with you?" "I think that she fully intends it." "Then, my dear Frederick," said Mrs. Costello, "I
61must decline the honor of her acquaintance. I am an old woman, but I am not too old, thank Heaven, to be shocked!" "But
62don't they all do these things--the young girls in America?" Winterbourne inquired. Mrs. Costello stared a moment. "I
63should like to see my granddaughters do them!" she declared grimly. This seemed to throw some light upon the matter, for
64Winterbourne remembered to have heard that his pretty cousins in New York were "tremendous flirts." If, therefore, Miss
65Daisy Miller exceeded the liberal margin allowed to these young ladies, it was probable that anything might be expected
66of her. Winterbourne was impatient to see her again, and he was vexed with himself that, by instinct, he should not
67appreciate her justly. Though he was impatient to see her, he hardly knew what he should say to her about his aunt's
68refusal to become acquainted with her; but he discovered, promptly enough, that with Miss Daisy Miller there was no
69great need of walking on tiptoe. He found her that evening in the garden, wandering about in the warm starlight like an
70indolent sylph, and swinging to and fro the largest fan he had ever beheld. It was ten o'clock. He had dined with his
71aunt, had been sitting with her since dinner, and had just taken leave of her till the morrow. Miss Daisy Miller seemed
72very glad to see him; she declared it was the longest evening she had ever passed.
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