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 aint the best! the child declared. Shes 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-coloured ribbon. She was bare-headed; 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?
Im going up the Alps, replied Randolph. This is the way! And he gave another little jump, scattering the pebbles about Winterbournes ears.
Thats the way they come down, said Winterbourne.
Hes 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 towards 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 Winterbournes 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 thinking of something else to say, the young lady turned to the little boy again.
I should like to know where you got that pole, she said.
I bought it! responded Randolph.
You dont mean to say youre going to take it to Italy.
Yes, I am going to take it to Italy! the child declared.
The young girl glanced over the front of her dress, and smoothed out a knot or two of ribbon. Then she rested her eyes upon the prospect again. Well, I guess you had better leave it somewhere, she said, after a moment.
Are you going to Italy? Winterbourne inquired, in a tone of great respect.
The young lady glanced at him again. Yes, sir, she replied. And she said nothing more.
Are you a going over the Simplon? Winterbourne pursued, a little embarrassed.
I dont know, she said. I suppose its some mountain. Randolph, what mountain are we going over?
Going where? the child demanded.
To Italy, Winterbourne explained.
I dont know, said Randolph. I dont want to go to Italy. I want to go to America.
Oh, Italy is a beautiful place! rejoined the young man.
Can you get candy there? Randolph loudly inquired.
I hope not, said his sister. I guess you have had enough candy, and mother thinks so too.
I havent had any for ever so long for a hundred weeks! cried the boy, still jumping about.
The young lady inspected her flounces and smoothed her ribbons again; and Winterbourne presently risked an observation upon the beauty of the view. He was ceasing to be embarrassed, for he had begun to perceive that she was not in the least embarrassed herself. There had not been the slightest alteration in her charming complexion; she was evidently neither offended nor fluttered. If she looked another way when he spoke to her, and seemed not particularly to hear him, this was simply her habit, her manner. Yet, as he talked a little more, and pointed out some of the objects of interest in the view, with which she appeared quite unacquainted, she gradually gave him more of the benefit of her glance; and then he saw that this glance was perfectly direct and unshrinking. It was not, however, what would have been called an immodest glance, for the young girls eyes were singularly honest and fresh. They were wonderfully pretty eyes; and, indeed, Winterbourne had not seen for a long time anything prettier than his fair countrywomans various features her complexion, her nose, her ears, her teeth. He had a great relish for feminine beauty; he was addicted to observing and analysing it; and as regards this young ladys face he made several observations. It was not at all insipid, but it was not exactly expressive; and though it was eminently delicate Winterbourne mentally accused it very forgivingly of a want of finish. He thought it very possible that Master Randolphs sister was a coquette; he was sure she had a spirit of her own; but in her bright, sweet, superficial little visage there was no mockery, no irony. Before long it became obvious that she was much disposed towards conversation. She told him that they were going to Rome for the winter she and her mother and Randolph. She asked him if he was a real American; she wouldnt have taken him for one; he seemed more like a German this was said after a little hesitation, especially when he spoke. Winterbourne, laughing, answered that he had met Germans who spoke like Americans; but that he had not, so far as he remembered, met an American who spoke like a German. Then he asked her if she would not be more comfortable in sitting upon the bench which he had just quitted. She answered that she liked standing up and walking about; but she presently sat down. She told him she was from New York State if you know where that is. Winterbourne learned more about her by catching hold of her small, slippery brother and making him stand a few minutes by his side.