101:141,01['  ]| At the little town of Vevey, in Switzerland, there is a particularly
101:141,02['  ]| comfortable hotel.  There are, indeed, many hotels; for 
101:141,03['  ]| the entertainment of tourists is the business of the place, which,
101:141,04['  ]| as many travellers will remember, is seated upon the edge of a
101:141,05['  ]| remarkably blue lake ~~ a lake that it behoves every tourist to
101:141,06['  ]| visit.  The shore of the lake presents an unbroken array of
101:141,07['  ]| establishments of this order, of every category, from the 
101:141,08['  ]| "grand*hotel" of the newest fashion, with a chalk-white
101:141,09['  ]| front, a hundred balconies, and a dozen flags flying from its
101:141,10['  ]| roof, to the little Swiss \9pension\ of an elder day, with its name
101:141,11['  ]| inscribed in German-looking lettering upon a pink or yellow
101:141,12['  ]| wall, and an awkward summer-house in the angle of the
101:141,13['  ]| garden.  One of the hotels at Vevey, however, is famous, even
101:141,14['  ]| classical, being distinguished from many of its upstart neighbours
101:141,15['  ]| by an air both of luxury and of maturity.  In this region,
101:141,16['  ]| in the month of June, American travellers are extremely
101:141,17['  ]| numerous; it may be said, indeed, that Vevey assumes at this
101:141,18['  ]| period some of the characteristics of an American watering-place.
101:141,19['  ]| There are sights and sounds which evoke a vision, an
101:141,20['  ]| echo, of Newport and Saratoga.  There is a flitting hither and
101:141,21['  ]| thither of "stylish" young girls, a rustling of muslin flounces,
101:141,22['  ]| a rattle of dance-music in the morning hours, a sound of high-pitched
101:141,23['  ]| voices at all times.  You receive an impression of these 
101:141,24['  ]| things at the excellent inn of the "Trois*Couronnes," and are
101:141,25['  ]| transported in fancy to the Ocean*House or to Congress*Hall.
101:141,26['  ]| But at the "Trois*Couronnes," it must be added, there are
101:141,27['  ]| other features that are much at variance with these suggestions:  
101:141,28['  ]| neat German waiters, who look like secretaries of
101:142,01['  ]| legation; Russian princesses sitting in the garden; little Polish
101:142,02['  ]| boys walking about, held by the hand, with their governors;
101:142,03['  ]| a view of the snowy crest of the Dent*du*Midi and the picturesque
101:142,04['  ]| towers of the Castle*of*Chillon.
101:142,05['  ]| I hardly know whether it was the analogies or the differences
101:142,06['  ]| that were uppermost in the mind of a young American, who,
101:142,07['  ]| two or three years ago, sat in the garden of the "Trois*Couronnes,"
101:142,08['  ]| looking about him, rather idly, at some of the
101:142,09['  ]| graceful objects I have mentioned.  It was a beautiful summer
101:142,10['  ]| morning, and in whatever fashion the young American looked
101:142,11['  ]| at things, they must have seemed to him charming.  He had
101:142,12['  ]| come from Geneva the day before, by the little steamer, to see
101:142,13['  ]| his aunt, who was staying at the hotel ~~ Geneva having been
101:142,14['  ]| for a long time his place of residence.  But his aunt had a 
101:142,15['  ]| headache ~~ his aunt had almost always a headache ~~ and now
101:142,16['  ]| she was shut up in her room, smelling camphor, so that he was
101:142,17['  ]| at liberty to wander about.  He was some seven-and-twenty
101:142,18['  ]| years of age; when his friends spoke of him, they usually said
101:142,19['  ]| that he was at Geneva, "studying."  When his enemies spoke
101:142,20['  ]| of him they said ~~ but, after all, he had no enemies; he was an
101:142,21['  ]| extremely amiable fellow, and universally liked.  What I
101:142,22['  ]| should say is, simply, that when certain persons spoke of him
101:142,23['  ]| they affirmed that the reason of his spending so much time at
101:142,24['  ]| Geneva was that he was extremely devoted to a lady who
101:142,25['  ]| lived there ~~ a foreign lady ~~ a person older than himself.
101:142,26['  ]| Very few Americans ~~ indeed I think none ~~ had ever seen
101:142,27['  ]| this lady, about whom there were some singular stories.  But
101:142,28['  ]| Winterbourne had an old attachment for the little metropolis
101:142,29['  ]| of Calvinism; he had been put to school there as a boy, and
101:142,30['  ]| he had afterwards gone to college there ~~ circumstances which
101:142,31['  ]| had led to his forming a great many youthful friendships.
101:142,32['  ]| Many of these he had kept, and they were a source of great
101:142,33['  ]| satisfaction to him.
101:142,34['  ]| After knocking at his aunt's door and learning that she was
101:142,35['  ]| indisposed, he had taken a walk about the town, and then he
101:143,01['  ]| had come in to his breakfast.  He had now finished his breakfast;
101:143,02['  ]| but he was drinking a small cup of coffee, which had
101:143,03['  ]| been served to him on a little table in the garden by one of the
101:143,04['  ]| waiters who looked like an \9attache=\.  At last he finished his
101:143,05['  ]| coffee and lit a cigarette.  Presently a small boy came walking
101:143,06['  ]| along the path ~~ an urchin of nine or ten.  The child, who was
101:143,07['  ]| diminutive for his years, had an aged expression of countenance,
101:143,08['  ]| a pale complexion, and sharp little features.  He was
101:143,09['  ]| dressed in knickerbockers, with red stockings, which displayed
101:143,10['  ]| his poor little spindleshanks; he also wore a brilliant
101:143,11['  ]| red cravat.  He carried in his hand a long alpenstock, the sharp
101:143,12['  ]| point of which he thrust into everything that he appraoched
101:143,13['  ]| ~~ the flower-beds, the garden-benches, the trains of the
101:143,14['  ]| ladies' dresses.  In front of Winterbourne he paused, looking
101:143,15['  ]| at him with a pair of bright, penetrating little eyes.
101:143,16[C  ]| "Will you give me a lump of sugar?"  
101:143,16['  ]| he asked, in a sharp,
101:143,17['  ]| hard little voice ~~ a voice immature, and yet, somehow, not 
101:143,18['  ]| young.
101:143,19['  ]| Winterbourne glanced at the small table near him, on which
101:143,20['  ]| his coffee-service rested, and saw that several morsels of sugar
101:143,21['  ]| remained.  
101:143,21[A  ]| "Yes, you may take one," 
101:143,21['  ]| he answered; 
101:143,21[A  ]| "but I
101:143,22[A  ]| don't think sugar is good for little boys."
101:143,23['  ]| This little boy stepped forward and carefully selected three
101:143,24['  ]| of the coveted fragments, two of which he buried in the pocket
101:143,25['  ]| of his knickerbockers, depositing the other as promptly in
101:143,26['  ]| another place.  He poked his alpenstock, lance-fashion, into
101:143,27['  ]| Winterbourne's bench, and tried to crack the lump of sugar
101:143,28['  ]| with his teeth.
101:143,29[C  ]| "Oh, blazes, it's har-r-d!"  
101:143,29['  ]| he exclaimed, pronouncing the
101:143,30['  ]| adjective in a peculiar manner.
101:143,31['  ]| Winterbourne had immediately perceived that he might
101:143,32['  ]| have the honour of claiming him as a fellow-countryman.
101:143,33[A  ]| "Take care you don't hurt your teeth," 
101:143,33['  ]| he said, paternally.
101:143,34[C  ]| "I haven't got any teeth to hurt.  They have all come out.
101:143,35[C  ]| I have only got seven teeth.  My mother counted them last
101:144,01[C  ]| night, and one came out right afterwards.  She said she'd slap
101:144,02[C  ]| me if any more came out.  I can't help it.  It's this old Europe.
101:144,03[C  ]| It's the climate that makes them come out.  In America they
101:144,04[C  ]| didn't come out.  It's these hotels."
101:144,05['  ]| Winterbourne was much amused.  
101:144,05[A  ]| "If you eat three lumps
101:144,06[A  ]| of sugar, your mother will certainly slap you," 
101:144,06['  ]| he said.
101:144,07[C  ]| "She's got to give me some candy, then," 
101:144,07['  ]| rejoined his
101:144,08['  ]| young interlocutor.  
101:144,08[C  ]| "I can't get any candy here ~~ any American 
101:144,09[C  ]| candy.  American candy's the best candy."
101:144,10[A  ]| "And are American little boys the best little boys?"  
101:144,10['  ]| asked
101:144,11['  ]| Winterbourne.
101:144,12[C  ]| "I don't know.  I'm an American boy," 
101:144,12['  ]| said the child.
101:144,13[A  ]| "I see you are one of the best!"  
101:144,13['  ]| laughed Winterbourne.
101:144,14[C  ]| "Are you an American man?"  
101:144,14['  ]| pursued this vivacious infant.
101:144,15['  ]| And then, on Winterbourne's affirmative reply ~~
101:144,16[C  ]| "American men are the best,"  
101:144,16['  ]| he declared.
101:144,17['  ]| His companion thanked him for the compliment; and the
101:144,18['  ]| child, who had now got astride of his alpenstock, stood looking
101:144,19['  ]| about him, while he attacked a second lump of sugar.
101:144,20['  ]| Winterbourne wondered if he himself had been like this in his
101:144,21['  ]| infancy, for he had been brought to Europe at about this
101:144,22['  ]| age.
101:144,23[C  ]| "Here comes my sister!"  
101:144,23['  ]| cried the child, in a moment.
101:144,24[C  ]| "She's an American girl."
101:144,25['  ]| Winterbourne looked along the path and saw a beautiful
101:144,26['  ]| young lady advancing.  
101:144,26[A  ]| "American girls are the best girls,"
101:144,27['  ]| he said, cheerfully, to his young companion.
101:144,28[C  ]| "My sister ain't the best!"  
101:144,28['  ]| the child declared.  
101:144,28[C  ]| "She's always
101:144,29[C  ]| blowing at me."
101:144,30[A  ]| "I imagine that is your fault, not hers,"  
101:144,30['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:144,31['  ]| The young lady meanwhile had drawn near.  She was dressed
101:144,32['  ]| in white muslin, with a hundred frills and flounces, and knots
101:144,33['  ]| of pale-coloured ribbon.  She was bare-headed; but she balanced
101:144,34['  ]| in her hand a large parasol, with a deep border of embroidery;
101:144,35['  ]| and she was strikingly, admirably pretty.  
101:144,35@a   | "How pretty they
101:145,01@a   | are!"  
101:145,01['  ]| thought Winterbourne, straightening himself in his
101:145,02['  ]| seat, as if he were prepared to rise.
101:145,03['  ]| The young lady paused in front of his bench, near the
101:145,04['  ]| parapet of the garden, which overlooked the lake.  The little
101:145,05['  ]| boy had now converted his alpenstock into a vaulting-pole,
101:145,06['  ]| by the aid of which he was springing about in the gravel, and
101:145,07['  ]| kicking it up not a little.
101:145,08[B  ]| "Randolph," 
101:145,08['  ]| said the young lady, 
101:145,08[B  ]| "what \are\ you doing?"
101:145,09[C  ]| "I'm going up the Alps," 
101:145,09['  ]| replied Randolph.  
101:145,09[C  ]| "This is the
101:145,10[C  ]| way!"  
101:145,10['  ]| And he gave another little jump, scattering the pebbles
101:145,11['  ]| about Winterbourne's ears.
101:145,12[A  ]| "That's the way they come down," 
101:145,12['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:145,13[C  ]| "He's an American man!"  
101:145,13['  ]| cried Randolph, in his little hard
101:145,14['  ]| voice.
101:145,15['  ]| The young lady gave no heed to this announcement, but
101:145,16['  ]| looked straight at her brother.  
101:145,16[B  ]| "Well, I guess you had better
101:145,17[B  ]| be quiet," 
101:145,17['  ]| she simply observed.
101:145,18['  ]| It seemed to Winterbourne that he had been in a manner
101:145,19['  ]| presented.  He got up and stepped slowly towards the young
101:145,20['  ]| girl, throwing away his cigarette.  
101:145,20[A  ]| "This little boy and I have
101:145,21[A  ]| made acquaintance," 
101:145,21['  ]| he said with great civility.  In Geneva,
101:145,22['  ]| as he had been perfectly aware, a young man was not at
101:145,23['  ]| liberty to speak to a young unmarried lady except under certain
101:145,24['  ]| rarely-occurring conditions; but here at Vevey, what conditions
101:145,25['  ]| could be better than these? ~~ a pretty American girl
101:145,26['  ]| coming and standing in front of you in a garden.  This pretty
101:145,27['  ]| American girl, however, on hearing Winterbourne's observation,
101:145,28['  ]| simply glanced at him; she then turned her head and
101:145,29['  ]| looked over the parapet, at the lake and the opposite mountains.
101:145,30['  ]| He wondered whether he had gone too far; but he
101:145,31['  ]| decided that he must advance farther, rather than retreat.
101:145,32['  ]| While he was thinking of something else to say, the young
101:145,33['  ]| lady turned to the little boy again.
101:145,34[B  ]| "I should like to know where you got that pole," 
101:145,34['  ]| she said.
101:145,35[C  ]| "I bought it!"  
101:145,35['  ]| responded Randolph.
101:146,01[B  ]| "You don't mean to say you're going to take it to Italy."
101:146,02[C  ]| "Yes, I am going to take it to Italy!"  
101:146,02['  ]| the child declared.
101:146,03['  ]| The young girl glanced over the front of her dress, and
101:146,04['  ]| smoothed out a knot or two of ribbon.  Then she rested her
101:146,05['  ]| eyes upon the prospect again.  
101:146,05[B  ]| "Well, I guess you had better
101:146,06[B  ]| leave it somewhere," 
101:146,06['  ]| she said, after a moment.
101:146,07[A  ]| "Are you going to Italy?"  
101:146,07['  ]| Winterbourne inquired, in a 
101:146,08['  ]| tone of great respect.
101:146,09['  ]| The young lady glanced at him again.  
101:146,09[B  ]| "Yes, sir," 
101:146,09['  ]| she
101:146,10['  ]| replied.  and she said nothing more.
101:146,11[A  ]| "Are you ~~ a ~~ going over the Simplon?"  
101:146,11['  ]| Winterbourne
101:146,12['  ]| pursued, a little embarrassed.
101:146,13[B  ]| "I don't know," 
101:146,13['  ]| she said.  
101:146,13[B  ]| "I suppose it's some mountain.
101:146,14[B  ]| Randolph, what mountain are we going over?"
101:146,15[C  ]| "Going where?"  
101:146,15['  ]| the child demanded.
101:146,16[A  ]| "To Italy," 
101:146,16['  ]| Winterbourne explained.
101:146,17[C  ]| "I don't know," 
101:146,17['  ]| said Randolph.  
101:146,17[C  ]| "I don't want to go to
101:146,18[C  ]| Italy.  I want to go to America."
101:146,19[A  ]| "Oh, Italy is a beautiful place!"  
101:146,19['  ]| rejoined the young man.
101:146,20[C  ]| "Can you get candy there?"  
101:146,20['  ]| Randolph loudly inquired.
101:146,21[B  ]| "I hope not," 
101:146,21['  ]| said his sister.  
101:146,21[B  ]| "I guess you have had
101:146,22[B  ]| enough candy, and mother thinks so too."
101:146,23[C  ]| "I haven't had any for ever so long ~~ for a hundred weeks!"
101:146,24['  ]| cried the boy, still jumping about.
101:146,25['  ]| The young lady inspected her flounces and smoothed her
101:146,26['  ]| ribbons again; and Winterbourne presently risked an observation
101:146,27['  ]| upon the beauty of the view.  He was ceasing to be embarrassed,
101:146,28['  ]| for he had begun to perceive that 
101:146,28@a   | she was not in the
101:146,29@a   | least embarrassed herself.  There had not been the slightest
101:146,30@a   | alteration in her charming complexion; she was evidently
101:146,31@a   | neither offended nor fluttered.  If she looked another way when
101:146,32@a   | he spoke to her, and seemed not particularly to hear him, this
101:146,33@a   | was simply her habit, her manner.  
101:146,33['  ]| Yet, as he talked a little
101:146,34['  ]| more, and pointed out some of the objects of interest in the
101:146,35['  ]| view, with which she appeared quite unacquainted, she gradually
101:147,01['  ]| gave him more of the benefit of her glance; and then he
101:147,02['  ]| saw that this glance was perfectly direct and unshrinking.  It
101:147,03['  ]| was not, however, what would have been called an immodest
101:147,04['  ]| glance, for the young girl's eyes were singularly honest and
101:147,05['  ]| fresh.  They were wonderfully pretty eyes; and, indeed, Winterbourne
101:147,06['  ]| had not seen for a long time anything prettier than
101:147,07['  ]| his fair countrywoman's various features ~~ her complexion,
101:147,08['  ]| her nose, her ears, her teeth.  He had a great relish for feminine
101:147,09['  ]| beauty; he was addicted to observing and analysing it; and as
101:147,10['  ]| regards this young lady's face he made several observations.
101:147,11@a   | It was not at all insipid, but it was not exactly expressive; 
101:147,11['  ]| and
101:147,12['  ]| though it was eminently delicate Winterbourne mentally
101:147,13['  ]| accused it ~~ very forgivingly ~~ of a want of finish.  He thought
101:147,14['  ]| it 
101:147,14@a   | very possible that Master*Randolph's sister was a coquette;
101:147,15@a   | he was sure she had a spirit of her own; but in her bright,
101:147,16@a   | sweet, superficial little visage there was no mockery, no irony.
101:147,17['  ]| Before long it became obvious that she was much disposed
101:147,18['  ]| towards conversation.  She told him that 
101:147,18@b   | they were going to
101:147,19@b   | Rome for the winter ~~ she and her mother and Randolph.  
101:147,19['  ]| She
101:147,20['  ]| asked him 
101:147,20@b   | if he was a "real American;" she wouldn't have
101:147,21@b   | taken him for one; he seemed more like a German ~~ 
101:147,21['  ]| this was
101:147,22['  ]| said after a little hesitation, especially when he spoke.  Winterbourne,
101:147,23['  ]| laughing, answered that 
101:147,23@a   | he had met Germans who
101:147,24@a   | spoke like Americans; but that he had not, so far as he remembered,
101:147,25@a   | met an American who spoke like a German.  
101:147,25['  ]| Then he
101:147,26['  ]| asked her 
101:147,26@a   | if she would not be more comfortable in sitting
101:147,27@a   | upon the bench which he had just quitted.  
101:147,27['  ]| She answered that
101:147,28@b   | she liked standing up and walking about; 
101:147,28['  ]| but she presently sat
101:147,29['  ]| down. She told him 
101:147,29@b   | she was from New*York*State ~~ "if you
101:147,30@b   | know where that is."  
101:147,30['  ]| Winterbourne learned more about her
101:147,31['  ]| by catching hold of her small, slippery brother and making
101:147,32['  ]| him stand a few minutes by his side.
101:147,33[A  ]| "Tell me your name, my boy," 
101:147,33['  ]| he said.
101:147,34[C  ]| "Randolph*C%*Miller," 
101:147,34['  ]| said the boy, sharply.  
101:147,34[C  ]| "And I'll tell
101:147,35[C  ]| you her name;"  
101:147,35['  ]| and he levelled his alpenstock at his sister.
101:148,01[B  ]| "You had better wait till you are asked!"  
101:148,01['  ]| said this young
101:148,02['  ]| lady, calmly.
101:148,03[A  ]| "I should like very much to know your name," 
101:148,03['  ]| said
101:148,04['  ]| Winterbourne.
101:148,05[C  ]| "Her name is Daisy*Miller!"  
101:148,05['  ]| cried the child.  
101:148,05[C  ]| "But that
101:148,06[C  ]| isn't her real name; that isn't her name on her cards."
101:148,07[B  ]| "It's a pity you haven't got one of my cards!"  
101:148,07['  ]| said Miss*Miller.
101:148,08['  ]|
101:148,09[C  ]| "Her real name is Annie*P%*Miller," 
101:148,09['  ]| the boy went on.
101:148,10[B  ]| "Ask him \his\ name," 
101:148,10['  ]| said his sister, indicating Winterbourne.
101:148,11['  ]|
101:148,12['  ]| But on this point Randolph seemed perfectly indifferent;
101:148,13['  ]| he continued to supply information with regard to his own
101:148,14['  ]| family.  
101:148,14[C  ]| "My father's name is Ezra*B%*Miller,"  
101:148,14['  ]| he announced.
101:148,15[C  ]| "My father ain't in Europe; my father's in a better place than
101:148,16[C  ]| Europe."
101:148,17['  ]| Winterbourne imagined for a moment that this was the
101:148,18['  ]| manner in which the child had been taught to intimate that
101:148,19['  ]| Mr*Miller had been removed to the sphere of celestial rewards.
101:148,20['  ]| But Randolph immediately added, 
101:148,20[C  ]| "My father's in Schenectady.
101:148,21[C  ]| He's got a big business.  My father's rich, you bet."
101:148,22[B  ]| "Well!"  
101:148,22['  ]| ejaculated Miss*Miller, lowering her parasol and
101:148,23['  ]| looking at the embroidered border.  Winterbourne presently 
101:148,24['  ]| released the child, who departed, dragging his alpenstock
101:148,25['  ]| along the path.  
101:148,25[B  ]| "He doesn't like Europe," 
101:148,25['  ]| said the young girl.
101:148,26[B  ]| "He wants to go back."
101:148,27[A  ]| "To Schenectady, you mean?"
101:148,28[B  ]| "Yes; he wants to go right home.  He hasn't got any boys
101:148,29[B  ]| here.  There is one boy here, but he always goes round with a
101:148,30[B  ]| teacher; they won't let him play."
101:148,31[A  ]| "And your brother hasn't any teacher?"  
101:148,31['  ]| Winterbourne
101:148,32['  ]| inquired.
101:148,33[B  ]| "Mother thought of getting him one, to travel round with
101:148,34[B  ]| us.  There was a lady told her of a very good teacher; an
101:148,35[B  ]| American lady ~~ perhaps you know her ~~ Mrs*Sanders.  I think
101:149,01[B  ]| she came from Boston.  She told her of this teacher, and we
101:149,02[B  ]| thought of getting him to travel round with us.  But Randolph
101:149,03[B  ]| said 
101:149,03@c   | he didn't want a teacher travelling round with us.  
101:149,03[B  ]| He said
101:149,04@c   | he wouldn't have lessons when he was in the cars.  
101:149,04[B  ]| And we \are\
101:149,05[B  ]| in the cars about half the time.  There was an English lady we
101:149,06[B  ]| met in the cars ~~ I think her name was Miss*Featherstone;
101:149,07[B  ]| perhaps you know her.  She wanted to know 
101:149,07@v   | why I didn't give
101:149,08@v   | Randolph lessons ~~ give him "instruction," 
101:149,08[B  ]| she called it.  I
101:149,09[B  ]| guess he could give me more instruction than I could give him.
101:149,10[B  ]| He's very smart."
101:149,11[A  ]| "Yes," 
101:149,11['  ]| said Winterbourne; 
101:149,11[A  ]| "he seems very smart."
101:149,12[B  ]| "Mother's going to get a teacher for him as soon as we get
101:149,13[B  ]| to Italy.  Can you get good teachers in Italy?"
101:149,14[A  ]| "Very good, I should think," 
101:149,14['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:149,15[B  ]| "Or else she's going to find some school.  He ought to learn
101:149,16[B  ]| some more.  He's only nine.  He's going to College."  
101:149,16['  ]| And in
101:149,17['  ]| this way Miss*Miller continued to converse upon the affairs
101:149,18['  ]| of her family, and upon other topics.  She sat there with her
101:149,19['  ]| extremely pretty hands, ornamented with very brilliant rings,
101:149,20['  ]| folded in her lap, and with her pretty eyes now resting upon
101:149,21['  ]| those of Winterbourne, now wandering over the garden, the
101:149,22['  ]| people who passed by, and the beautiful view.  She talked to
101:149,23['  ]| Winterbourne as if she had known him a long time.  He found
101:149,24['  ]| it very pleasant.  It was many years since he had heard a young
101:149,25['  ]| girl talk so much.  It might have been said of this unknown
101:149,26['  ]| young lady, who had come and sat down beside him upon a
101:149,27['  ]| bench, that she chattered.  She was very quiet, she sat in a
101:149,28['  ]| charming, tranquil attitude; but her lips and her eyes were
101:149,29['  ]| constantly moving.  She had a soft, slender, agreeable voice,
101:149,30['  ]| and her tone was decidedly sociable.  She gave Winterbourne
101:149,31['  ]| a history of her movements and intentions, and those of her
101:149,32['  ]| mother and brother, in Europe, and enumerated, in particular,
101:149,33['  ]| the various hotels at which they had stopped.  
101:149,33[B  ]| "That English
101:149,34[B  ]| lady in the cars," 
101:149,34['  ]| she said ~~ 
101:149,34[B  ]| "Miss*Featherstone ~~ asked me 
101:149,34@v   | if
101:149,35@v   | we didn't all live in hotels in America.  
101:149,35[B  ]| I told her 
101:149,35@b   | I had never
101:150,01@b   | been in so many hotels in my life as since I came to Europe.
101:150,02[B  ]| I have never seen so many ~~ it's nothing but hotels."  
101:150,02['  ]| But Miss*Miller
101:150,03['  ]| did not make this remark with a querulous accent; she
101:150,04['  ]| appeared to be in the best humour with everything.  She declared
101:150,05['  ]| that 
101:150,05@b   | the hotels were very good, when once you got used
101:150,06@b   | to their ways, and that Europe was perfectly sweet.  She was
101:150,07@b   | not disappointed ~~ not a bit.  Perhaps it was because she had
101:150,08@b   | heard so much about it before.  She had ever so many intimate
101:150,09@b   | friends that had been there ever so many times.  And then
101:150,10@b   | she had had ever so many dresses and things from Paris.
101:150,11@b   | Whenever she put on a Paris dress she felt as if she were in
101:150,12@b   | Europe.
101:150,13[A  ]| "It was a kind of wishing-cap," 
101:150,13['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:150,14[B  ]| "Yes," 
101:150,14['  ]| said Miss*Miller, without examining this analogy;
101:150,15[B  ]| "it always made me wish I was here.  But I needn't have done
101:150,16[B  ]| that for dresses.  I am sure they send all the pretty ones to
101:150,17[B  ]| America; you see the most frightful things here.  The only
101:150,18[B  ]| thing I don't like," 
101:150,18['  ]| she proceeded, 
101:150,18[B  ]| "is the society.  There isn't
101:150,19[B  ]| any society; or, if there is, I don't know where it keeps itself.
101:150,20[B  ]| Do you?  I suppose there is some society somewhere, but I
101:150,21[B  ]| haven't seen anything of it.  I'm very fond of society, and I
101:150,22[B  ]| have always had a great deal of it.  I don't mean only in
101:150,23[B  ]| Schenectady, but in New*York I had lots of society.  Last winter
101:150,24[B  ]| I had seventeen dinners given me; and three of them were by
101:150,25[B  ]| gentlemen," 
101:150,25['  ]| added Daisy*Miller.  
101:150,25[B  ]| "I have more friends in New*York
101:150,26[B  ]| than in Schenectady ~~ more gentlemen friends; and
101:150,27[B  ]| more young lady friends too," 
101:150,27['  ]| she resumed in a moment.  She
101:150,28['  ]| paused again for an instant; she was looking at Winterbourne
101:150,29['  ]| with all her prettiness in her lively eyes and in her light,
101:150,30['  ]| slightly monotonous smile.  
101:150,30[B  ]| "I have always had," 
101:150,30['  ]| she said,
101:150,31[B  ]| "a great deal of gentlemen's society."
101:150,32['  ]| Poor Winterbourne was amused, perplexed, and decidedly
101:150,33['  ]| charmed.  He had never yet heard a young girl express herself
101:150,34['  ]| in just this fashion; never, at least, save in cases where to say
101:151,01['  ]| such things seemed a kind of demonstrative evidence of a certain
101:151,02['  ]| laxity of deportment.  
101:151,02@a   | And yet was he to accuse Miss*Daisy*Miller
101:151,03@a   | of actual or potential \9inconduite\, as they said at Geneva?
101:151,04['  ]| He felt that 
101:151,04@a   | he had lived at Geneva so long that he had lost a
101:151,05@a   | good deal; he had become dishabituated to the American tone.
101:151,06@a   | Never, indeed, since he had grown old enough to appreciate
101:151,07@a   | things, had he encountered a young American girl of so pronounced
101:151,08@a   | a type as this.  Certainly she was very charming; but
101:151,09@a   | how deucedly sociable!  Was she simply a pretty girl from
101:151,10@a   | New*York*State ~~ were they all like that, the pretty girls who
101:151,11@a   | had a good deal of gentlemen's society?  Or was she also a
101:151,12@a   | designing, an audacious, an unscrupulous young person?
101:151,13['  ]| Winterbourne had lost his instinct in this matter, and his
101:151,14['  ]| reason could not help him.  
101:151,14@a   | Miss*Daisy*Miller looked extremely
101:151,15@a   | innocent. Some people had told him that, 
101:151,15@x   | after all,
101:151,16@x   | American girls were exceedingly innocent; 
101:151,16@a   | and others had
101:151,17@a   | told him that, 
101:151,17@x   | after all, they were not.  
101:151,17@a   | He was inclined to think
101:151,18@a   | Miss*Daisy*Miller was a flirt ~~ a pretty American flirt.  He had
101:151,19@a   | never, as yet, had any relations with young ladies of this
101:151,20@a   | category.  He had known, here in Europe, two or three women
101:151,21@a   | ~~ persons older than Miss*Daisy*Miller, and provided, for
101:151,22@a   | respectability's sake, with husbands ~~ who were great coquettes
101:151,23@a   | ~~ dangerous, terrible women, with whom one's relations
101:151,24@a   | were liable to take a serious turn.  But this young girl was not
101:151,25@a   | a coquette in that sense; she was very unsophisticated; she
101:151,26@a   | was only a pretty American flirt.  Winterbourne was almost
101:151,27['  ]| grateful for having found the formula that applied to Miss*Daisy*Miller.
101:151,28['  ]| He leaned back in his seat; he remarked to himself
101:151,29['  ]| that 
101:151,29@a   | she had the most charming nose he had ever seen; 
101:151,29['  ]| he
101:151,30['  ]| wondered 
101:151,30@a   | what were the regular conditions and limitations of
101:151,31@a   | one's intercourse with a pretty American flirt.  
101:151,31['  ]| It presently
101:151,32['  ]| became apparent that he was on the way to learn.
101:151,33[B  ]| "Have you been to that old castle?"  
101:151,33['  ]| asked the young girl,
101:151,34['  ]| pointing with her parasol to the far-gleaming walls of the
101:151,35['  ]| Cha^teau*de*Chillon.
101:152,01[A  ]| "Yes, formerly, more than once," 
101:152,01['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:152,02[A  ]| "You too, I suppose, have seen it?"
101:152,03[B  ]| "No; we haven't been there.  I want to go there dreadfully.
101:152,04[B  ]| Of course I mean to go there.  I wouldn't go away from here
101:152,05[B  ]| without having seen that old castle."
101:152,06[A  ]| "It's a very pretty excursion," 
101:152,06['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
101:152,06[A  ]| "and
101:152,07[A  ]| very easy to make.  You can drive, you know, or you can go
101:152,08[A  ]| by the little steamer."
101:152,09[B  ]| "You can go in the cars," 
101:152,09['  ]| said Miss*Miller.
101:152,10[A  ]| "Yes; you can go in the cars," 
101:152,10['  ]| Winterbourne assented.
101:152,11[B  ]| "Our courier says 
101:152,11@f   | they take you right up to the castle,"
101:152,12['  ]| the young girl continued.  
101:152,12[B  ]| "We were going last week; but my
101:152,13[B  ]| mother gave out.  She suffers dreadfully from dyspepsia.  She
101:152,14[B  ]| said 
101:152,14@e   | she couldn't go.  
101:152,14[B  ]| Randolph wouldn't go either; he says
101:152,15@c   | he doesn't think much of old castles.  
101:152,15[B  ]| But I guess we'll go this
101:152,16[B  ]| week, if we can get Randolph."
101:152,17[A  ]| "Your brother is not interested in ancient monuments?"
101:152,18['  ]| Winterbourne inquired, smiling.
101:152,19[B'  ]| "He says 
101:152,19@c   | he don't care much about old castles.  
101:152,19[B  ]| He's only
101:152,20[B  ]| nine.  He wants to stay at the hotel.  Mother's afraid to leave
101:152,21[B  ]| him alone, and the courier won't stay with him; so we haven't
101:152,22[B  ]| been to many places.  But it will be too bad if we don't go up
101:152,23[B  ]| there."  
101:152,23['  ]| And Miss*Miller pointed again at the Cha^teau*de*Chillon.
101:152,24['  ]|
101:152,25[A  ]| "I should think it might be arranged," 
101:152,25['  ]| said Winterbourne.
101:152,26[A  ]| "Couldn't you get some*one to stay ~~ for the afternoon ~~
101:152,27[A  ]| with Randolph?"
101:152,28['  ]| Miss*Miller looked at him a moment; and then, very placidly
101:152,29[B  ]| ~~ "I wish \you\ would stay with him!"  
101:152,29['  ]| she said.
101:152,30['  ]| Winterbourne hesitated a moment.  
101:152,30[A  ]| "I would much rather
101:152,31[A  ]| go to Chillon with you."
101:152,32[B  ]| "With me?"  
101:152,32['  ]| asked the young girl, with the same
101:152,33['  ]| placidity.
101:152,34['  ]| She didn't rise, blushing, as a young girl at Geneva would
101:152,35['  ]| have done; and yet Winterbourne, conscious that he had been
101:153,01['  ]| very bold, thought it possible she was offended.  
101:153,01[A  ]| "With your
101:153,02[A  ]| mother," 
101:153,02['  ]| he answered very respectfully.
101:153,03['  ]| But it seemed that both his audacity and his respect were
101:153,04['  ]| lost upon Miss*Daisy*Miller.  
101:153,04[B  ]| "I guess my mother won't go,
101:153,05[B  ]| after all," 
101:153,05['  ]| she said.  
101:153,05[B  ]| "She don't like to ride round in the afternoon.
101:153,06[B  ]| But did you really mean what you said just now; that
101:153,07[B  ]| you would like to go up there?"
101:153,08[A  ]| "Most earnestly," 
101:153,08['  ]| Winterbourne declared.
101:153,09[B  ]| "Then we may arrange it.  If mother will stay with Randolph,
101:153,10[B  ]| I guess Eugenio will."
101:153,11[A  ]| "Eugenio?"  
101:153,11['  ]| the young man inquired.
101:153,12[B  ]| "Eugenio's our courier.  He doesn't like to stay with Randolph;
101:153,13[B  ]| he's the most fastidious man I ever saw.  But he's a
101:153,14[B  ]| splendid courier.  I guess he'll stay at home with Randolph if
101:153,15[B  ]| mother does, and then we can go to the castle."
101:153,16['  ]| Winterbourne reflected for an instant as lucidly as possible
101:153,17@a   | ~~ "we" could only mean Miss*Daisy*Miller and himself.  
101:153,17['  ]| This
101:153,18['  ]| programme seemed almost too agreeable for credence; he felt
101:153,19['  ]| as if he ought to kiss the young lady's hand.  Possibly he would
101:153,20['  ]| have done so ~~ and quite spoiled the project; but at this
101:153,21['  ]| moment another person ~~ presumably Eugenio ~~ appeared.  A
101:153,22['  ]| tall, handsome man, with superb whiskers, wearing a velvet
101:153,23['  ]| morning-coat and a brilliant watch-chain, approached Miss*Miller,
101:153,24['  ]| looking sharply at her companion.  
101:153,24[B  ]| "Oh, Eugenio!"
101:153,25['  ]| said Miss*Miller, with the friendliest accent.
101:153,26['  ]| Eugenio had looked at Winterbourne from head to foot;
101:153,27['  ]| he now bowed gravely to the young lady.  
101:153,27[F  ]| "I have the honour
101:153,28[F  ]| to inform mademoiselle that luncheon is upon the table."
101:153,29['  ]| Miss*Miller slowly rose.  
101:153,29[B  ]| "See here, Eugenio," 
101:153,29['  ]| she said.
101:153,30[B  ]| "I'm going to that old castle, any*way."
101:153,31[F  ]| "To the Cha^teau*de*Chillon, mademoiselle?"  
101:153,31['  ]| the courier
101:153,32['  ]| inquired.  
101:153,32[F  ]| "Mademoiselle has made arrangements?"  
101:153,32['  ]| he added,
101:153,33['  ]| in a tone which struck Winterbourne as very impertinent.
101:153,34['  ]| Eugenio's tone apparently threw, even to Miss*Miller's own
101:153,35['  ]| apprehension, a slightly ironical light upon the young girl's
101:154,01['  ]| situation.  She turned to Winterbourne, blushing a little ~~ a
101:154,02['  ]| very little.  
101:154,02[B  ]| "You won't back out?"  
101:154,02['  ]| she said.
101:154,03[A  ]| "I shall not be happy till we go!"  
101:154,03['  ]| he protested.
101:154,04[B  ]| "And you are staying in this hotel?"  
101:154,04['  ]| she went on.  
101:154,04[B  ]| "And
101:154,05[B  ]| you are really an American?"
101:154,06['  ]| The courier stood looking at Winterbourne, offensively.
101:154,07['  ]| The young man, at least, thought his manner of looking an
101:154,08['  ]| offence to Miss*Miller; it conveyed an imputation that she
101:154,09['  ]| "picked up" acquaintances.  
101:154,09[A  ]| "I shall have the honour of presenting
101:154,10[A  ]| to you a person who will tell you all about me," 
101:154,10['  ]| he
101:154,11['  ]| said smiling, and referring to his aunt.
101:154,12[B  ]| "Oh, well, we'll go some day," 
101:154,12['  ]| said Miss*Miller.  And she
101:154,13['  ]| gave him a smile and turned away.  She put up her parasol and
101:154,14['  ]| walked back to the inn beside Eugenio.  Winterbourne stood
101:154,15['  ]| looking after her; and as she moved away, drawing her muslin
101:154,16['  ]| furbelows over the gravel, said to himself that 
101:154,16@a   | she had the
101:154,17@a   | \9tournure\ of a princess.
102:154,18['  ]| He had, however, engaged to do more than proved feasible,
102:154,19['  ]| in promising to present his aunt, Mrs*Costello, to Miss*Daisy*Miller.
102:154,20['  ]| As soon as the former lady had got better of her headache
102:154,21['  ]| he waited upon her in her apartment; and, after the
102:154,22['  ]| proper inquiries in regard to her health, he asked her 
102:154,22@a   | if she
102:154,23@a   | had observed, in the hotel, an American family ~~ a mamma,
102:154,24@a   | a daughter, and a little boy.
102:154,25[D  ]| "And a courier?"  
102:154,25['  ]| said Mrs*Costello.  
102:154,25[D  ]| "Oh, yes, I have
102:154,26[D  ]| observed them.  Seen them ~~ heard them ~~ and kept out of
102:154,27[D  ]| their way."  
102:154,27['  ]| Mrs*Costello was a widow with a fortune; a
102:154,28['  ]| person of much distinction, who frequently intimated that, 
102:154,28@d   | if
102:154,29@d   | she were not so dreadfully liable to sick-headaches, she would
102:154,30@d   | probably have left a deeper impress upon her time.   
102:154,30['  ]| She had a
102:155,01['  ]| long pale face, a high nose, and a great deal of very striking
102:155,02['  ]| white hair, which she wore in large puffs and \9rouleaux\ over
102:155,03['  ]| the top of her head.  She had two sons married in New*York,
102:155,04['  ]| and another who was now in Europe.  This young man was
102:155,05['  ]| amusing himself at Homburg, and, though he was on his
102:155,06['  ]| travels, was rarely perceived to visit any particular city at the
102:155,07['  ]| moment selected by his mother for her own appearance there.
102:155,08@d   | Her nephew, 
102:155,08['  ]| who had come up to Vevey expressly to see her,
102:155,09@d   | was therefore more attentive than those who, 
102:155,09['  ]| as she said, 
102:155,09@d   | were
102:155,10@d   | nearer to her.  
102:155,10['  ]| He had imbibed at Geneva the idea that one
102:155,11['  ]| must always be attentive to one's aunt.  Mrs*Costello had not
102:155,12['  ]| seen him for many years, and she was greatly pleased with him,
102:155,13['  ]| manifesting her approbation by initiating him into many of
102:155,14['  ]| the secrets of that social sway which, as she gave him to
102:155,15['  ]| understand, she exerted in the American capital.  She admitted
102:155,16['  ]| that 
102:155,16@d   | she was very exclusive; but, if he were acquainted with
102:155,17@d   | New*York, he would see that one had to be.  
102:155,17['  ]| And her picture
102:155,18['  ]| of the minutely hierarchical constitution of the society of that
102:155,19['  ]| city, which she presented to him in many different lights, was,
102:155,20['  ]| to Winterbourne's imagination, almost oppressively striking.
102:155,21['  ]| He immediately perceived, from her tone, that Miss*Daisy*Miller's
102:155,22['  ]| place in the social scale was low.  
102:155,22[A  ]| "I am afraid you
102:155,23[A  ]| don't approve of them," 
102:155,23['  ]| he said.
102:155,24[D  ]| "They are very common," 
102:155,24['  ]| Mrs*Costello declared.  
102:155,24[D  ]| "They
102:155,25[D  ]| are the sort of Americans that one does one's duty by not ~~
102:155,26[D  ]| not accepting."
102:155,27[A  ]| "Ah, you don't accept them?"  
102:155,27['  ]| said the young man.
102:155,28[D  ]| "I can't, my dear Frederick.  I would if I could, but I can't."
102:155,29[A  ]| "The young girl is very pretty," 
102:155,29['  ]| said Winterbourne, in a
102:155,30['  ]| moment.
102:155,31[D  ]| "Of course she's pretty.  But she is very common."
102:155,32[A  ]| "I see what you mean, of course," 
102:155,32['  ]| said Winterbourne, after
102:155,33['  ]| another pause.
102:155,34[D  ]| "She has that charming look that they all have," 
102:155,34['  ]| his aunt
102:155,35['  ]| resumed.  
102:155,35[D  ]| "I can't think where they pick it up; and she dresses
102:156,01[D  ]| in perfection ~~ no, you don't know how well she dresses.  I
102:156,02[D  ]| can't think where they get their taste."
102:156,03[A  ]| "But, my dear aunt, she is not, after all, a Comanche
102:156,04[A  ]| savage."
102:156,05[D  ]| "She is a young lady," 
102:156,05['  ]| said Mrs*Costello, 
102:156,05[D  ]| "who has an
102:156,06[D  ]| intimacy with her mamma's courier."
102:156,07[A  ]| "An intimacy with the courier?"  
102:156,07['  ]| the young man demanded.
102:156,08[D  ]| "Oh, the mother is just as bad!  They treat the courier like
102:156,09[D  ]| a familiar friend ~~ like a gentleman.  I shouldn't wonder if he
102:156,10[D  ]| dines with them.  Very likely they have never seen a man with
102:156,11[D  ]| such good manners, such fine clothes, so like a gentleman.  He
102:156,12[D  ]| probably corresponds to the young lady's idea of a Count.  He
102:156,13[D  ]| sits with them in the garden, in the evening.  I think he
102:156,14[D  ]| smokes."
102:156,15['  ]| Winterbourne listened with interest to these disclosures;
102:156,16['  ]| they helped him to make up his mind about Miss*Daisy.
102:156,17@a   | Evidently she was rather wild.  
102:156,17[A  ]| "Well," 
102:156,17['  ]| he said, 
102:156,17[A  ]| "I am not a
102:156,18[A  ]| courier, and yet she was very charming to me."
102:156,19[D  ]| "You had better have said at first," 
102:156,19['  ]| said Mrs*Costello, with
102:156,20['  ]| dignity, 
102:156,20[D  ]| "that you had made her acquaintance."
102:156,21[A  ]| "We simply met in the garden, and we talked a bit."
102:156,22[D  ]| "\9tout*bonnement\!  And pray what did you say?"
102:156,23[A  ]| "I said I should take the liberty of introducing her to my
102:156,24[A  ]| admirable aunt."
102:156,25[D  ]| "I am much obliged to you."
102:156,26[A  ]| "It was to guarantee my respectability," 
102:156,26['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:156,27[D  ]| "And pray who is to guarantee hers?"
102:156,28[A  ]| "Ah, you are cruel!"  
102:156,28['  ]| said the young man.  
102:156,28[A  ]| "She's a very
102:156,29[A  ]| nice girl."
102:156,30[D  ]| "You don't say that as if you believed it," 
102:156,30['  ]| Mrs*Costello
102:156,31['  ]| observed.
102:156,32[A  ]| "She is completely uncultivated," 
102:156,32['  ]| Winterbourne went on.
102:156,33[A  ]| "But she is wonderfully pretty, and, in short, she is very nice.
102:156,34[A  ]| To prove that I believe it, I am going to take her to the
102:156,35[A  ]| Cha^teau*de*Chillon."
102:157,01[D  ]| "You two are going off there together?  I should say it
102:157,02[D  ]| proved just the contrary.  How long had you known her, may
102:157,03[D  ]| I ask, when this interesting project was formed?  You haven't
102:157,04[D  ]| been twenty-fours in the house."
102:157,05[A  ]| "I had known her half-an-hour!"  
102:157,05['  ]| said Winterbourne,
102:157,06['  ]| smiling.
102:157,07[D  ]| "Dear me!"  
102:157,07['  ]| cried Mrs*Costello.  
102:157,07[D  ]| "What a dreadful girl!"
102:157,08['  ]| Her nephew was silent for some moments.  
102:157,08[A  ]| "You really
102:157,09[A  ]| think, then," 
102:157,09['  ]| he began, earnestly, and with a desire for trustworthy
102:157,10['  ]| information ~~ 
102:157,10[A  ]| "you really think that ~~ " 
102:157,10['  ]| But he
102:157,11['  ]| paused again.
102:157,12[D  ]| "Think what, sir?"  
102:157,12['  ]| said his aunt.
102:157,13[A  ]| "That she is the sort of young lady who expects a man ~~
102:157,14[A  ]| sooner or later ~~ to carry her off?"
102:157,15[D  ]| "I haven't the least idea what such young ladies expect a
102:157,16[D  ]| man to do.  But I really think that you had better not meddle
102:157,17[D  ]| with little American girls that are uncultivated, as you call
102:157,18[D  ]| them.  You have lived too long out of the country.  You will
102:157,19[D  ]| be sure to make some great mistake.  You are too innocent."
102:157,20[A  ]| "My dear aunt, I am not so innocent," 
102:157,20['  ]| said Winterbourne,
102:157,21['  ]| smiling and curling his moustache.
102:157,22[D  ]| "You are too guilty, then!"
102:157,23['  ]| Winterbourne continued to curl his moustache, meditatively.
102:157,24[A  ]| "You won't let the poor girl know you then?"  
102:157,24['  ]| he
102:157,25['  ]| asked at last.
102:157,26[D  ]| "Is it literally true that she is going to the Cha^teau*de*Chillon
102:157,27[D  ]| with you?"
102:157,28[A  ]| "I think that she fully intends it."
102:157,29[D  ]| "Then, my dear Frederick," 
102:157,29['  ]| said Mrs*Costello, 
102:157,29[D  ]| "I must
102:157,30[D  ]| decline the honour of her acquaintance.  I am an old woman,
102:157,31[D  ]| but I am not too old ~~ thank Heaven ~~ to be shocked!"
102:157,32[A  ]| "But don't they all do these things ~~ the young girls in
102:157,33[A  ]| America?"  
102:157,33['  ]| Winterbourne inquired.
102:157,34['  ]| Mrs*Costello stared a moment.  
102:157,34[D  ]| "I should like to see my
102:157,35[D  ]| granddaughters do them!"  
102:157,35['  ]| she declared, grimly.
102:158,01['  ]| This seemed to throw some light upon the matter, for
102:158,02['  ]| Winterbourne remembered to have heard that his pretty
102:158,03['  ]| cousins in New*York were 
102:158,03@x   | "tremendous flirts."  
102:158,03@a   | If, therefore,
102:158,04@a   | Miss*Daisy*Miller exceeded the liberal license allowed to these
102:158,05@a   | young ladies, it was probable that anything might be expected
102:158,06@a   | of her.  
102:158,06['  ]| Winterbourne was impatient to see her again, and he
102:158,07['  ]| was vexed with himself that, by instinct, he should not appreciate
102:158,08['  ]| her justly.
102:158,09['  ]| Though he was impatient to see her, he hardly knew what
102:158,10['  ]| he should say to her about his aunt's refusal to become acquainted
102:158,11['  ]| with her; but he discovered, promptly enough, that
102:158,12['  ]| with Miss*Daisy*Miller there was no great need of walking on
102:158,13['  ]| tiptoe.  He found her that evening in the garden, wandering
102:158,14['  ]| about in the warm starlight, like an indolent sylph, and swinging
102:158,15['  ]| to*and*fro the largest fan he had ever beheld.  It was ten
102:158,16['  ]| o'clock.  He had dined with his aunt, had been sitting with her
102:158,17['  ]| since dinner, and had just taken leave of her till the morrow.
102:158,18['  ]| Miss*Daisy*Miller seemed very glad to see him; she declared
102:158,19@b   | it was the longest evening she had ever passed.
102:158,20[A  ]| "Have you been all alone?"  
102:158,20['  ]| he asked.
102:158,21[B  ]| "I have been walking round with mother.  But mother gets
102:158,22[B  ]| tired walking round," 
102:158,22['  ]| she answered.
102:158,23[A  ]| "Has she gone to bed?"
102:158,24[B  ]| "No; she doesn't like to go to bed," 
102:158,24['  ]| said the young girl.
102:158,25[B  ]| "She doesn't sleep ~~ not three hours.  She says 
102:158,25@e   | she doesn't
102:158,26@e   | know how she lives.  
102:158,26[B  ]| She's dreadfully nervous.  I guess she
102:158,27[B  ]| sleeps more than she thinks.  She's gone somewhere after
102:158,28[B  ]| Randolph; she wants to try to get him to go to bed.  He doesn't
102:158,29[B  ]| like to go to bed."
102:158,30[A  ]| "Let us hope she will persuade him," 
102:158,30['  ]| observed Winterbourne.
102:158,31['  ]|
102:158,32[B  ]| "She will talk to him all she can; but he doesn't like her to
102:158,33[B  ]| talk to him," 
102:158,33['  ]| said Miss*Daisy, opening her fan.  
102:158,33[B  ]| "She's going
102:158,34[B  ]| to try to get Eugenio to talk to him.  But he isn't afraid of
102:158,35[B  ]| Eugenio.  Eugenio's a splendid courier, but he can't make much
102:159,01[B  ]| impression on Randolph!  I don't believe he'll go to bed before
102:159,02[B  ]| eleven."  
102:159,02['  ]| It appeared that Randolph's vigil was in fact triumphantly
102:159,03['  ]| prolonged, for Winterbourne strolled about with the
102:159,04['  ]| young girl for some time without meeting her mother.  
102:159,04[B  ]| "I
102:159,05[B  ]| have been looking round for that lady you want to introduce
102:159,06[B  ]| me to," 
102:159,06['  ]| his companion resumed.  
102:159,06[B  ]| "She's your aunt."  
102:159,06['  ]| Then,
102:159,07['  ]| on Winterbourne's admitting the fact, and expressing some
102:159,08['  ]| curiosity as to how she had learned it, she said 
102:159,08@b   | she had heard
102:159,09@b   | all about Mrs*Costello from the chambermaid.  She was very
102:159,10@b   | quiet and very \9comme*il*faut\; she wore white puffs; she spoke
102:159,11@b   | to no*one, and she never dined at the \9table*d'ho^te\.  Every two
102:159,12@b   | days she had a headache.  
102:159,12[B  ]| "I think that's a lovely description,
102:159,13[B  ]| headache and all!"  
102:159,13['  ]| said Miss*Daisy, chattering along in her
102:159,14['  ]| thin, gay voice.  
102:159,14[B  ]| "I want to know her ever so much.  I know
102:159,15[B  ]| just what \your\ aunt would be; I know I should like her.  She
102:159,16[B  ]| would be very exclusive.  I like a lady to be exclusive;  I'm
102:159,17[B  ]| dying to be exclusive myself.  Well, we \are\ exclusive, mother
102:159,18[B  ]| and I.  We don't speak to every*one ~~ or they don't speak to
102:159,19[B  ]| us.  I suppose it's about the same thing.  Any*way, I shall be
102:159,20[B  ]| ever so glad to know your aunt."
102:159,21['  ]| Winterbourne was embarrassed.  
102:159,21[A  ]| "She would be most
102:159,22[A  ]| happy," 
102:159,22['  ]| he said; 
102:159,22[A  ]| "but I am afraid those headaches will interfere."
102:159,23[A  ]|
102:159,24['  ]| The young girl looked at him through the dusk.  
102:159,24[B  ]| "But I
102:159,25[B  ]| suppose she doesn't have a headache every day," 
102:159,25['  ]| she said,
102:159,26['  ]| sympathetically.
102:159,27['  ]| Winterbourne was silent a moment.  
102:159,27[A  ]| "She tells me she
102:159,28[A  ]| does," 
102:159,28['  ]| he answered at last ~~ not knowing what to say.
102:159,29['  ]| Miss*Daisy*Miller stopped and stood looking at him.  Her
102:159,30['  ]| prettiness was still visible in the darkness; she was opening
102:159,31['  ]| and closing her enormous fan.  
102:159,31[B  ]| "She doesn't want to know
102:159,32[B  ]| me!"  
102:159,32['  ]| she said, suddenly.  
102:159,32[B  ]| "Why don't you say so?  You
102:159,33[B  ]| needn't be afraid.  I'm not afraid!"  
102:159,33['  ]| And she gave a little laugh.
102:159,34['  ]| Winterbourne fancied there was a tremor in her voice;  he
102:159,35['  ]| was touched, shocked, mortified by it.  
102:159,35[A  ]| "My dear young lady,"
102:160,01['  ]| he protested, 
102:160,01[A  ]| "she knows no*one.  It's her wretched health."
102:160,02['  ]| The young girl walked on a few steps, laughing still.  
102:160,02[B  ]| "You
102:160,03[B  ]| needn't be afraid," 
102:160,03['  ]| she repeated.  
102:160,03[B  ]| "Why should she want to
102:160,04[B  ]| know me?"  
102:160,04['  ]| Then she paused again; she was close to the
102:160,05['  ]| parapet of the garden, and in front of her was the starlit lake.
102:160,06['  ]| There was a vague sheen upon its surface, and in the distance
102:160,07['  ]| were dimly-seen mountain forms.  Daisy*Miller looked out
102:160,08['  ]| upon the mysterious prospect, and then she gave another
102:160,09['  ]| little laugh.  
102:160,09[B  ]| "Gracious!  she \is\ exclusive!"  
102:160,09['  ]| she said.  Winterbourne
102:160,10['  ]| wondered whether she was seriously wounded, and
102:160,11['  ]| for a moment almost wished that her sense of injury might be
102:160,12['  ]| such as to make it becoming in him to attempt to reassure and
102:160,13['  ]| comfort her.  He had a pleasant sense that 
102:160,13@a   | she would be very
102:160,14@a   | approachable for consolatory purposes.  
102:160,14['  ]| He felt then, for the
102:160,15['  ]| instant, quite ready to sacrifice his aunt, conversationally; to
102:160,16['  ]| admit that 
102:160,16@a   | she was a proud, rude woman, 
102:160,16['  ]| and to declare that
102:160,17@a   | they needn't mind her.  
102:160,17['  ]| But before he had time to commit himself
102:160,18['  ]| to this perilous mixture of gallantry and impiety, the
102:160,19['  ]| young lady, resuming her walk, gave an exclamation in quite
102:160,20['  ]| another tone.  
102:160,20[B  ]| "Well; here's mother!  I guess she hasn't got
102:160,21[B  ]| Randolph to go to bed."  
102:160,21['  ]| The figure of a lady appeared, at a
102:160,22['  ]| distance, very indistinct in the darkness, and advancing with
102:160,23['  ]| a slow and wavering movement.  Suddenly it seemed to pause.
102:160,24[A  ]| "Are you sure it is your mother?  Can you distinguish her
102:160,25[A  ]| in this thick dusk?"  
102:160,25['  ]| Winterbourne asked.
102:160,26[B  ]| "Well!"  
102:160,26['  ]| cried Miss*Daisy*Miller, with a laugh, 
102:160,26[B  ]| "I guess I
102:160,27[B  ]| know my own mother.  And when she has got on my shawl,
102:160,28[B  ]| too!  She is always wearing my things."
102:160,29['  ]| The lady in question, ceasing to advance, hovered vaguely
102:160,30['  ]| about the spot at which she had checked her steps.
102:160,31[A  ]| "I am afraid your mother doesn't see you," 
102:160,31['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:160,32[A  ]| "Or perhaps," 
102:160,32['  ]| he added ~~ thinking, with Miss*Miller,
102:160,33['  ]| the joke permissible ~~ 
102:160,33[A  ]| "perhaps she feels guilty about your
102:160,34[A  ]| shawl."
102:160,35[B  ]| "Oh, it's a fearful old thing!"  
102:160,35['  ]| the young girl replied,
102:161,01['  ]| serenely.  
102:161,01[B  ]| "I told her she could wear it.  She won't come here,
102:161,02[B  ]| because she sees you."
102:161,03[A  ]| "Ah, then," 
102:161,03['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
102:161,03[A  ]| "I had better leave you."
102:161,04[B  ]| "Oh no; come on!"  
102:161,04['  ]| urged Miss*Daisy*Miller.
102:161,05[A  ]| "I'm afraid your mother doesn't approve of my walking
102:161,06[A  ]| with you."
102:161,07['  ]| Miss*Miller gave him a serious glance.  
102:161,07[B  ]| "It isn't for me; it's
102:161,08[B  ]| for you ~~ that is, it's for \her\.  Well; I don't know who it's for!
102:161,09[B  ]| But mother doesn't like any of my gentlemen friends.  She's
102:161,10[B  ]| right down timid.  She always makes a fuss if I introduce a
102:161,11[B  ]| gentleman.  But I \do\ introduce them ~~ almost always.  If I
102:161,12[B  ]| didn't introduce my gentlemen friends to mother," 
102:161,12['  ]| the young
102:161,13['  ]| girl added, in her little soft, flat monotone, 
102:161,13[B  ]| "I shouldn't think
102:161,14[B  ]| I was natural."
102:161,15[A  ]| "To introduce me," 
102:161,15['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
102:161,15[A  ]| "you must know
102:161,16[A  ]| my name."  
102:161,16['  ]| And he proceeded to pronounce it.
102:161,17[B  ]| "Oh, dear; I can't say all that!"  
102:161,17['  ]| said his companion, with
102:161,18['  ]| a laugh.  But by this time they had come up to Mrs*Miller,
102:161,19['  ]| who, as they drew near, walked to the parapet of the garden
102:161,20['  ]| and leaned upon it, looking intently at the lake and turning
102:161,21['  ]| her back upon them.  
102:161,21[B  ]| "Mother!"  
102:161,21['  ]| said the young girl, in a tone
102:161,22['  ]| of decision.  Upon this the elder lady turned round.  
102:161,22[B  ]| "Mr*Winterbourne,"
102:161,23['  ]| said Miss*Daisy*Miller, introducing the
102:161,24['  ]| young man very frankly and prettily.  
102:161,24@a   | "Common," she was,
102:161,25@a   | as Mrs*Costello had pronounced her; 
102:161,25['  ]| yet it was a wonder to
102:161,26['  ]| Winterbourne that, 
102:161,26@a   | with her commonness, she had a singularly
102:161,27@a   | delicate grace.
102:161,28['  ]| Her mother was a small, light person, with a wandering
102:161,29['  ]| eye, a very exiguous nose, and a large forehead, decorated
102:161,30['  ]| with a certain amount of thin, much-frizzled hair.  Like her
102:161,31['  ]| daughter, Mrs*Miller was dressed with extreme elegance; she
102:161,32['  ]| had enormous diamonds in her ears.  So far as Winterbourne
102:161,33['  ]| could observe, she gave him no greeting ~~ 
102:161,33@a   | she certainly was
102:161,34@a   | not looking at him.  Daisy was near her, pulling her shawl
102:161,35['  ]| straight.  
102:161,35[B  ]| "What are you doing, poking round here?"  
102:161,35['  ]| this
102:162,01['  ]| young lady inquired; but by no means with that harshness of
102:162,02['  ]| accent which her choice of words may imply.
102:162,03[E  ]| "I don't know," 
102:162,03['  ]| said her mother, turning torwards the lake
102:162,04['  ]| again.
102:162,05[B  ]| "I shouldn't think you'd want that shawl!"  
102:162,05['  ]| Daisy exclaimed.
102:162,06['  ]|
102:162,07[E  ]| "Well ~~ I do!"  
102:162,07['  ]| her mother answered, with a little laugh.
102:162,08[B  ]| "Did you get Randolph to go to bed?"  
102:162,08['  ]| asked the young
102:162,09['  ]| girl.
102:162,10[E  ]| "No; I couldn't induce him," 
102:162,10['  ]| said Mrs*Miller, very gently.
102:162,11[E  ]| "He wants to talk to the waiter.  He likes to talk to that waiter."
102:162,12[B  ]| "I was telling Mr*Winterbourne," 
102:162,12['  ]| the young girl went on;
102:162,13['  ]| and to the young man's ear 
102:162,13@a   | her tone might have indicated
102:162,14@a   | that she had been uttering his name all her life.
102:162,15[A  ]| "Oh, yes!"  
102:162,15['  ]| said Winterbourne; 
102:162,15[A  ]| "I have the pleasure of
102:162,16[A  ]| knowing your son."
102:162,17['  ]| Randolph's mamma was silent; she turned her attention to
102:162,18['  ]| the lake.  But at last she spoke.  
102:162,18[E  ]| "Well, I don't see how he lives!"
102:162,19[B  ]| "Anyhow, it isn't so bad as it was at Dover," 
102:162,19['  ]| said Daisy*Miller.
102:162,20['  ]|
102:162,21[A  ]| "And what occurred at Dover?"  
102:162,21['  ]| Winterbourne asked.
102:162,22[B  ]| "He wouldn't go to bed at all.  I guess he sat up all night ~~
102:162,23[B  ]| in the public parlour.  He wasn't in bed at twelve o'clock:  I
102:162,24[B  ]| know that."
102:162,25[E  ]| "It was half-past twelve," 
102:162,25['  ]| declared Mrs*Miller, with mild
102:162,26['  ]| emphasis.
102:162,27[A  ]| "Does he sleep much during the day?"  
102:162,27['  ]| Winterbourne
102:162,28['  ]| demanded.
102:162,29[B  ]| "I guess he doesn't sleep much," 
102:162,29['  ]| Daisy rejoined.
102:162,30[E  ]| "I wish he would!"  
102:162,30['  ]| said her mother.  
102:162,30[E  ]| "It seems as if he
102:162,31[E  ]| couldn't."
102:162,32[B  ]| "I think he's real tiresome," 
102:162,32['  ]| Daisy pursued.
102:162,33['  ]| Then, for some moments, there was silence.  
102:162,33[E  ]| "Well, Daisy*Miller,"
102:162,34['  ]| said the elder lady, presently, 
102:162,34[E  ]| "I shouldn't think you'd
102:162,35[E  ]| want to talk against your own brother!"
102:163,01[B  ]| "Well, he \is\ tiresome, mother," 
102:163,01['  ]| said Daisy, quite without
102:163,02['  ]| the asperity of a retort.
102:163,03[E  ]| "He's only nine," 
102:163,03['  ]| urged Mrs*Miller.
102:163,04[B  ]| "Well, he wouldn't go to that castle," 
102:163,04['  ]| said the young girl.
102:163,05[B  ]| "I'm going there with Mr*Winterbourne."
102:163,06['  ]| To this announcement, very placidly made, Daisy's mamma
102:163,07['  ]| offered no response.  Winterbourne took for granted that she
102:163,08['  ]| deeply disapproved of the projected excursion; but he said to
102:163,09['  ]| himself that 
102:163,09@a   | she was a simple, easily-managed person, and that
102:163,10@a   | a few deferential protestations would take the edge from her
102:163,11@a   | displeasure.  
102:163,11[A  ]| "Yes," 
102:163,11['  ]| he began; 
102:163,11[A  ]| "your daughter has kindly
102:163,12[A  ]| allowed me the honour of being her guide."
102:163,13['  ]| Mrs*Miller's wandering eyes attached themselves, with a
102:163,14['  ]| sort of appealing air, to Daisy, who, however, strolled a few
102:163,15['  ]| steps farther, gently humming to herself.  
102:163,15[E  ]| "I presume you will
102:163,16[E  ]| go in the cars," 
102:163,16['  ]| said her mother.
102:163,17[A  ]| "Yes; or in the boat," 
102:163,17['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:163,18[E  ]| "Well, of course, I don't know," 
102:163,18['  ]| Mrs*Miller rejoined.  
102:163,18[E  ]| "I
102:163,19[E  ]| have never been to that castle."
102:163,20[A  ]| "It is a pity you shouldn't go," 
102:163,20['  ]| said Winterbourne, beginning
102:163,21['  ]| to feel reassured as to her opposition.  And yet he was
102:163,22['  ]| quite prepared to find that, as a matter of course, she meant to
102:163,23['  ]| accompany her daughter.
102:163,24[E  ]| "We've been thinking ever so much about going," 
102:163,24['  ]| she
102:163,25['  ]| pursued; 
102:163,25[E  ]| "but it seems as if we couldn't.  Of course Daisy ~~
102:163,26[E  ]| she wants to go round.  But there's a lady here ~~ I don't know
102:163,27[E  ]| her name ~~ she says 
102:163,27@v   | she shouldn't think we'd want to go to
102:163,28@v   | see castles \here\; she should think we'd want to wait till we got
102:163,29@v   | to Italy.  
102:163,29[E  ]| It seems as if there would be so many there," 
102:163,29['  ]| continued
102:163,30['  ]| Mrs*Miller, with an air of increasing confidence.  
102:163,30[E  ]| "Of
102:163,31[E  ]| course, we only want to see the principal ones.  We visited
102:163,32[E  ]| several in England," 
102:163,32['  ]| she presently added.
102:163,33[A  ]| "Ah, yes!  in England there are beautiful castles," 
102:163,33['  ]| said
102:163,34['  ]| Winterbourne.  
102:163,34[A  ]| "But Chillon, here, is very well worth seeing."
102:163,35[E  ]| "Well, if Daisy feels up to it ~~ ," 
102:163,35['  ]| said Mrs*Miller, in a
102:164,01['  ]| tone impregnated with a sense of the magnitude of the enterprise.
102:164,02[E  ]| "It seems as if there was nothing she wouldn't undertake."
102:164,03[E  ]|
102:164,04[A  ]| "Oh, I think she'll enjoy it!"  
102:164,04['  ]| Winterbourne declared.  And
102:164,05['  ]| he desired more and more to make it a certainty that he was to
102:164,06['  ]| have the privilege of a \9te^te-a`-te^te\ with the young lady, who
102:164,07['  ]| was still strolling along in front of them, softly vocalising.
102:164,08[A  ]| "You are not disposed, madam," 
102:164,08['  ]| he inquired, 
102:164,08[A  ]| "to undertake
102:164,09[A  ]| it yourself?"
102:164,10['  ]| Daisy's mother looked at him, an instant, askance, and
102:164,11['  ]| then walked forward in silence.  Then ~~ 
102:164,11[E  ]| "I guess she had
102:164,12[E  ]| better go alone," 
102:164,12['  ]| she said, simply.
102:164,13['  ]| Winterbourne observed to himself that 
102:164,13@a   | this was a very
102:164,14@a   | different type of maternity from that of the vigilant matrons
102:164,15@a   | who massed themselves in the forefront of social intercourse
102:164,16@a   | in the dark old city at the other end of the lake.  
102:164,16['  ]| But his meditations
102:164,17['  ]| were interrupted by hearing his name very distinctly
102:164,18['  ]| pronounced by Mrs*Miller's unprotected daughter.
102:164,19[B  ]| "Mr*Winterbourne!"  
102:164,19['  ]| murmured Daisy.
102:164,20[A  ]| "Mademoiselle!"  
102:164,20['  ]| said the young man.
102:164,21[B  ]| "Don't you want to take me out in a boat?"
102:164,22[A  ]| "At present?"  
102:164,22['  ]| he asked.
102:164,23[B  ]| "Of course!"  
102:164,23['  ]| said Daisy.
102:164,24[E  ]| "Well, Annie*Miller!"  
102:164,24['  ]| exclaimed her mother.
102:164,25[A  ]| "I beg you, madam, to let her go," 
102:164,25['  ]| said Winterbourne,
102:164,26['  ]| ardently; for he had never yet enjoyed the sensation of guiding
102:164,27['  ]| through the summer starlight a skiff freighted with a fresh
102:164,28['  ]| and beautiful young girl.
102:164,29[E  ]| "I shouldn't think she'd want to," 
102:164,29['  ]| said her mother.  
102:164,29[E  ]| "I
102:164,30[E  ]| should think she'd rather go indoors."
102:164,31[B  ]| "I'm sure Mr*Winterbourne wants to take me," 
102:164,31['  ]| Daisy
102:164,32['  ]| declared.  
102:164,32[B  ]| "He's so awfully devoted!"
102:164,33[A  ]| "I will row you over to Chillon, in the starlight."
102:164,34[B  ]| "I don't believe it!"  
102:164,34['  ]| said Daisy.
102:164,35[E  ]| "Well!"  
102:164,35['  ]| ejaculated the elder lady again.
102:165,01[B  ]| "You haven't spoken to me for half-an-hour," 
102:165,01['  ]| her daughter
102:165,02['  ]| went on.
102:165,03[A  ]| "I have been having some very pleasant conversation with
102:165,04[A  ]| your mother," 
102:165,04['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:165,05[B  ]| "Well; I want you to take me out in a boat!"  
102:165,05['  ]| Daisy repeated.
102:165,06['  ]| They had all stopped, and she had turned round and
102:165,07['  ]| was looking at Winterbourne.  Her face wore a charming
102:165,08['  ]| smile, her pretty eyes were gleaming, she was swinging her
102:165,09['  ]| great fan about.  
102:165,09@a   | No; it's impossible to be prettier than that,
102:165,10['  ]| thought Winterbourne.
102:165,11[A  ]| "There are half-a-dozen boats moored at that landing-place,"
102:165,12['  ]| he said, pointing to certain steps which descended
102:165,13['  ]| from the garden to the lake.  
102:165,13[A  ]| "If you will do me the honour to
102:165,14[A  ]| accept my arm, we will go and select one of them."
102:165,15['  ]| Daisy stood there smiling; she threw back her head and
102:165,16['  ]| gave a little light laugh.  
102:165,16[B  ]| "I like a gentleman to be formal!"
102:165,17['  ]| she declared.
102:165,18[A  ]| "I assure you it's a formal offer."
102:165,19[B  ]| "I was bound I would make you say something," 
102:165,19['  ]| Daisy
102:165,20['  ]| went on.
102:165,21[A  ]| "You see it's not very difficult," 
102:165,21['  ]| said Winterbourne.  
102:165,21[A  ]| "But
102:165,22[A  ]| I am afraid you are chaffing me."
102:165,23[E  ]| "I think not, sir," 
102:165,23['  ]| remarked Mrs*Miller, very gently.
102:165,24[A  ]| "Do, then, let me give you a row," 
102:165,24['  ]| he said to the young
102:165,25['  ]| girl.
102:165,26[B  ]| "It's quite lovely, the way you say that!"  
102:165,26['  ]| cried Daisy.
102:165,27[A  ]| "It will be still more lovely to do it."
102:165,28[B  ]| "Yes, it would be lovely!"  
102:165,28['  ]| said Daisy.  But she made no
102:165,29['  ]| movement to accompany him; she only stood there laughing.
102:165,30[E  ]| "I should think you had better find out what time it is,"
102:165,31['  ]| interposed her mother.
102:165,32[F  ]| "It is eleven o'clock, madam," 
102:165,32['  ]| said a voice, with a foreign
102:165,33['  ]| accent, out of the neighbouring darkness; and Winterbourne,
102:165,34['  ]| turning, perceived the florid personage who was in attendance
102:165,35['  ]| upon the two ladies.  
102:165,35@a   | He had apparently just approached.
102:166,01[B  ]| "Oh, Eugenio," 
102:166,01['  ]| said Daisy, 
102:166,01[B  ]| "I am going out in a boat!"
102:166,02['  ]| Eugenio bowed.  
102:166,02[F  ]| "At eleven o'clock, mademoiselle?"
102:166,03[B  ]| "I am going with Mr*Winterbourne.  This very minute."
102:166,04[E  ]| "Do tell her she can't," 
102:166,04['  ]| said Mrs*Miller to the courier.
102:166,05[F  ]| "I think you had better not go out in a boat, mademoiselle,"
102:166,06['  ]| Eugenio declared.
102:166,07['  ]| Winterbourne wished to Heaven this pretty girl were not
102:166,08['  ]| so familiar with her courier; but he said nothing.
102:166,09[B  ]| "I suppose you don't think it's proper!"  
102:166,09['  ]| Daisy exclaimed.
102:166,10[B  ]| "Eugenio doesn't think anything's proper."
102:166,11[A  ]| "I am at your service," 
102:166,11['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:166,12[F  ]| "Does mademoiselle propose to go alone?"  
102:166,12['  ]| asked Eugenio
102:166,13['  ]| of Mrs*Miller.
102:166,14[E  ]| "Oh, no; with this gentleman!"  
102:166,14['  ]| answered Daisy's mamma.
102:166,15['  ]| The courier looked for a moment at Winterbourne ~~ the
102:166,16['  ]| latter thought he was smiling ~~ and then, solemnly, with a
102:166,17['  ]| bow, 
102:166,17[F  ]| "As mademoiselle pleases!"  
102:166,17['  ]| he said.
102:166,18[B  ]| "Oh, I hoped you would make a fuss!"  
102:166,18['  ]| said Daisy.  
102:166,18[B  ]| "I 
102:166,19[B  ]| don't care to go now."
102:166,20[A  ]| "I myself shall make a fuss if you don't go," 
102:166,20['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:166,21['  ]|
102:166,22[B  ]| "That's all I want ~~ a little fuss!"  
102:166,22['  ]| And the young girl
102:166,23['  ]| began to laugh again.
102:166,24[F  ]| "Mr*Randolph has gone to bed!"  
102:166,24['  ]| the courier announced,
102:166,25['  ]| frigidly.
102:166,26[E  ]| "Oh, Daisy; now we can go!"  
102:166,26['  ]| said Mrs*Miller.
102:166,27['  ]| Daisy turned away from Winterbourne, looking at him,
102:166,28['  ]| smiling and fanning herself.  
102:166,28[B  ]| "Good*night," 
102:166,28['  ]| she said; 
102:166,28[B  ]| "I hope
102:166,29[B  ]| you are disappointed, or disgusted, or something!"
102:166,30['  ]| He looked at her, taking the hand she offered him.  
102:166,30[A  ]| "I am
102:166,31[A  ]| puzzled," 
102:166,31['  ]| he answered.
102:166,32[B  ]| "Well; I hope it won't keep you awake!"  
102:166,32['  ]| she said, very
102:166,33['  ]| smartly; and, under the escort of the privileged Eugenio, the
102:166,34['  ]| two ladies passed towards the house.
102:166,35['  ]| Winterbourne stood looking after them; he was indeed
102:167,01['  ]| puzzled.  He lingered beside the lake for a quarter of an hour,
102:167,02['  ]| turning over the mystery of the young girl's sudden familiarities
102:167,03['  ]| and caprices.  But the only very definite conclusion he
102:167,04['  ]| came to was that 
102:167,04@a   | he should enjoy deucedly "going off" with
102:167,05@a   | her somewhere.
102:167,06['  ]| Two days afterwards he went off with her to the Castle*of*Chillon.
102:167,07['  ]| He waited for her in the large hall of the hotel, where
102:167,08['  ]| the couriers, the servants, the foreign tourists were lounging
102:167,09['  ]| about and staring.  It was not the place he would have chosen,
102:167,10['  ]| but she had appointed it.  She came tripping downstairs, buttoning
102:167,11['  ]| her long gloves, squeezing her folded parasol against
102:167,12['  ]| her pretty figure, dressed in the perfection of a soberly elegant
102:167,13['  ]| travelling-costume.  Winterbourne was a man of imagination
102:167,14['  ]| and, as our ancestors used to say, of sensibility; as he looked
102:167,15['  ]| at her dress and, on the great staircase, her little rapid, confiding
102:167,16['  ]| step, he felt 
102:167,16@a   | as if there were something romantic going
102:167,17@a   | forward.  
102:167,17['  ]| He could have believed 
102:167,17@a   | he was going to elope with
102:167,18@a   | her.  
102:167,18['  ]| He passed out with her among all the idle people that were
102:167,19['  ]| assembled there; they were all looking at her very hard; she
102:167,20['  ]| had begun to chatter as soon as she joined him.  Winterbourne's
102:167,21['  ]| preference had been that they should be conveyed to
102:167,22['  ]| Chillon in a carriage; but she expressed a lively wish to go in
102:167,23['  ]| the little steamer; she declared that 
102:167,23@b   | she had a passion for
102:167,24@b   | steamboats.  There was always such a lovely breeze upon the
102:167,25@b   | water, and you saw such lots of people.  
102:167,25['  ]| The sail was not long,
102:167,26['  ]| but Winterbourne's companion found time to say a great
102:167,27['  ]| many things.  To the young man himself their little excursion
102:167,28['  ]| was so much of an escapade ~~ an adventure ~~ that, even allowing
102:167,29['  ]| for her habitual sense of freedom, he had some expectation
102:167,30['  ]| of seeing her regard it in the same way.  But it must be confessed
102:167,31['  ]| that, in this particular, he was disappointed.  
102:167,31@a   | Daisy*Miller
102:167,32@a   | was extremely animated, she was in charming spirits;
102:167,33@a   | but she was apparently not at all excited; she was not fluttered;
102:167,34@a   | she avoided neither his eyes nor those of any*one else; she
102:167,35@a   | blushed neither when she looked at him nor when she saw
102:168,01@a   | that people were looking at her.  
102:168,01['  ]| People continued to look at
102:168,02['  ]| her a great deal, and Winterbourne took much satisfaction in
102:168,03['  ]| his pretty companion's distinguished air.  He had been a little
102:168,04['  ]| afraid that she would talk loud, laugh overmuch, and even,
102:168,05['  ]| perhaps, desire to move about the boat a good deal.  but he
102:168,06['  ]| quite forgot his fears; he sat smiling, with his eyes upon her
102:168,07['  ]| face, while, without moving from her place, she delivered
102:168,08['  ]| herself of a great number of original reflections.  
102:168,08@a   | It was the
102:168,09@a   | most charming garrulity he had ever heard.  He had assented
102:168,10@a   | to the idea that she was "common;" but was she so, after all,
102:168,11@a   | or was he simply getting used to her commonness?  
102:168,11['  ]| Her conversation
102:168,12['  ]| was chiefly of what metaphysicians term the objective
102:168,13['  ]| cast; but every now and then it took a subjective turn.
102:168,14[B  ]| "What on \earth\ are you so grave about?"  
102:168,14['  ]| she suddenly
102:168,15['  ]| demanded, fixing her agreeable eyes upon Winterbourne's.
102:168,16[A  ]| "Am I grave?"  
102:168,16['  ]| he asked.  
102:168,16[A  ]| "I had an idea I was grinning
102:168,17[A  ]| from ear to ear."
102:168,18[B  ]| "You look as if you were taking me to a funeral.  If that's
102:168,19[B  ]| a grin, your ears are very near together."
102:168,20[A  ]| "Should you like me to dance a hornpipe on the deck?"
102:168,21[B  ]| "Pray do, and I'll carry round your hat.  It will pay the
102:168,22[B  ]| expenses of our journey."
102:168,23[A  ]| "I never was better pleased in my life," 
102:168,23['  ]| murmured Winterbourne.
102:168,24['  ]|
102:168,25['  ]| She looked at him a moment, and then burst into a little
102:168,26['  ]| laugh.  
102:168,26[B  ]| "I like to make you say those things!  You're a queer
102:168,27[B  ]| mixture!"
102:168,28['  ]| In the castle, after they had landed, the subjective element
102:168,29['  ]| decidedly prevailed.  Daisy tripped about the vaulted chambers,
102:168,30['  ]| rustled her skirts in the corkscrew staircases, flirted back
102:168,31['  ]| with a pretty little cry and a shudder from the edge of the
102:168,32['  ]| \9oubliettes\, and turned a singularly well-shaped ear to everything
102:168,33['  ]| that Winterbourne told her about the place.  But he saw
102:168,34['  ]| that she cared very little for feudal antiquities, and that the
102:168,35['  ]| dusky traditions of Chillon made but a slight impression upon
102:169,01['  ]| her.  They had the good fortune to have been able to walk
102:169,02['  ]| about without other companionship than that of the custodian;
102:169,03['  ]| and Winterbourne arranged with this functionary that
102:169,04['  ]| they should not be hurried ~~ that they should linger and pause
102:169,05['  ]| wherever they chose.  The custodian interpreted the bargain
102:169,06['  ]| generously ~~ Winterbourne, on his side, had been generous ~~
102:169,07['  ]| and ended by leaving them quite to themselves.  Miss*Miller's
102:169,08['  ]| observations were not remarkable for logical consistency; for
102:169,09['  ]| anything she wanted to say she was sure to find a pretext.  She
102:169,10['  ]| found a great many pretexts in the rugged embrasures of
102:169,11['  ]| Chillon for asking Winterbourne sudden questions about
102:169,12['  ]| himself ~~ his family, his previous history, his tastes, his habits,
102:169,13['  ]| his intentions ~~ and for supplying information upon corresponding
102:169,14['  ]| points in her own personality.  Of her own tastes,
102:169,15['  ]| habits and intentions Miss*Miller was prepared to give the
102:169,16['  ]| most definite, and indeed the most favourable, account.
102:169,17[B  ]| "Well; I hope you know enough!"  
102:169,17['  ]| she said to her companion,
102:169,18['  ]| after he had told her the history of the unhappy
102:169,19['  ]| Bonivard.  
102:169,19[B  ]| "I never saw a man that knew so much!"  
102:169,19['  ]| The
102:169,20['  ]| history of Bonivard had evidently, as they say, gone into one
102:169,21['  ]| ear and out of the other.  But Daisy went on to say that 
102:169,21@b   | she
102:169,22@b   | wished Winterbourne would travel with them and "go round"
102:169,23@b   | with them; they might know something, in that case.  
102:169,23[B  ]| "Don't
102:169,24[B  ]| you want to come and teach Randolph?"  
102:169,24['  ]| she asked.  Winterbourne
102:169,25['  ]| said that 
102:169,25@a   | nothing could possibly please him so much;
102:169,26@a   | but that he had unfortunately other occupations.  
102:169,26[B  ]| "Other
102:169,27[B  ]| occupations?  I don't believe it!"  
102:169,27['  ]| said Miss*Daisy.  
102:169,27[B  ]| "What do
102:169,28[B  ]| you mean?  You are not in business."  
102:169,28['  ]| The young man admitted
102:169,29['  ]| that, 
102:169,29@a   | he was not in business; but he had engagements
102:169,30@a   | which, even within a day or two, would force him to go back
102:169,31@a   | to Geneva.  
102:169,31[B  ]| "Oh, bother!"  
102:169,31['  ]| she said, 
102:169,31[B  ]| "I don't believe it!"  
102:169,31['  ]| and
102:169,32['  ]| she began to talk about something else.  But a few moments
102:169,33['  ]| later, when he was pointing out to her the pretty design of an
102:169,34['  ]| antique fireplace, she broke out irrelevantly, 
102:169,34[B  ]| "You don't mean
102:169,35[B  ]| to say you are going back to Geneva?"
102:170,01[A  ]| "It is a melancholy fact that I shall have to return to
102:170,02[A  ]| Geneva to-morrow."
102:170,03[B  ]| "Well, Mr*Winterbourne," 
102:170,03['  ]| said Daisy; 
102:170,03[B  ]| "I think you're
102:170,04[B  ]| horrid!"
102:170,05[A  ]| "Oh, don't say such dreadful things!"  
102:170,05['  ]| said Winterbourne
102:170,06[A  ]| ~~ "just at the last."
102:170,07[B  ]| "The last!"  
102:170,07['  ]| cried the young girl; 
102:170,07[B  ]| "I call it the first.  I have
102:170,08[B  ]| half a mind to leave you here and go straight back to the hotel
102:170,09[B  ]| alone."  
102:170,09['  ]| And for the next ten minutes she did nothing but call
102:170,10['  ]| him horrid.  Poor Winterbourne was fairly bewildered; no
102:170,11['  ]| young lady had as yet done him the honour to be so agitated
102:170,12['  ]| by the announcement of his movements.  His companion, after
102:170,13['  ]| this, ceased to pay any attention to the curiosities of Chillon or
102:170,14['  ]| the beauties of the lake; she opened fire upon the mysterious
102:170,15['  ]| charmer in Geneva, whom she appeared to have instantly
102:170,16['  ]| taken it for granted that he was hurrying back to see.  
102:170,16@a   | How did
102:170,17@a   | Miss*Daisy*Miller know that there was a charmer in Geneva?
102:170,18['  ]| Winterbourne, who denied the existence of such a person, was
102:170,19['  ]| quite unable to discover; and he was divided between amazement
102:170,20['  ]| at the rapidity of her induction and amusement at the
102:170,21['  ]| frankness of her \9persiflage\.  She seemd to him, in all this, an
102:170,22['  ]| extraordinary mixture of innocence and credulity.  
102:170,22[B  ]| "Does she
102:170,23[B  ]| never allow you more than three days at a time?"  
102:170,23['  ]| asked
102:170,24['  ]| Daisy, ironically.  
102:170,24[B  ]| "Doesn't she give you a vacation in summer?
102:170,25[B  ]| There's no*one so hard worked but they can get leave
102:170,26[B  ]| to go off somewhere at this season.  I suppose, if you stay
102:170,27[B  ]| another day, she'll come after you in the boat.  Do wait over
102:170,28[B  ]| till Friday, and I will go down to the landing to see her
102:170,29[B  ]| arrive!"  
102:170,29['  ]| Winterbourne began to think 
102:170,29@a   | he had been wrong to
102:170,30@a   | feel disappointed in the temper in which the young lady had
102:170,31@a   | embarked.  If he had missed the personal accent, the personal
102:170,32@a   | accent was now making its appearance.  
102:170,32['  ]| It sounded very distinctly,
102:170,33['  ]| at last, in her telling him 
102:170,33@b   | she would stop "teasing"
102:170,34@b   | him if he would promise her solemnly to come down to
102:170,35@b   | Rome in the winter.
102:171,01[A  ]| "That's not a difficult promise to make," 
102:171,01['  ]| said Winterbourne.
102:171,02[A  ]| "My aunt has taken an apartment in Rome for the
102:171,03[A  ]| winter, and has already asked me to come and see her."
102:171,04[B  ]| "I don't want you to come for your aunt," 
102:171,04['  ]| said Daisy; 
102:171,04[B  ]| "I
102:171,05[B  ]| want you to come for me."  
102:171,05['  ]| And this was the only allusion that
102:171,06['  ]| the young man was ever to hear her make to his invidious
102:171,07['  ]| kinswoman.  He declared that, at any rate, 
102:171,07@a   | he would certainly
102:171,08@a   | come.  
102:171,08['  ]| After this Daisy stopped teasing.  Winterbourne took a
102:171,09['  ]| carriage, and they drove back to Vevey in the dusk; the young
102:171,10['  ]| girl was very quiet.
102:171,11['  ]| In the evening Winterbourne mentioned to Mrs*Costello
102:171,12['  ]| that 
102:171,12@a   | he had spent the afternoon at Chillon, with Miss*Daisy*Miller.
102:171,13@a   |
102:171,14[D  ]| "The Americans ~~ of the courier?"  
102:171,14['  ]| asked this lady.
102:171,15[A  ]| "Ah, happily," 
102:171,15['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
102:171,15[A  ]| "the courier stayed at
102:171,16[A  ]| home."
102:171,17[D  ]| "She went with you all alone?"
102:171,18[A  ]| "All alone."
102:171,19['  ]| Mrs*Costello sniffed a little at her smelling-bottle.  
102:171,19[D  ]| "And
102:171,20[D  ]| that," 
102:171,20['  ]| she exclaimed, 
102:171,20[D  ]| "is the young person you wanted me to 
102:171,21[D  ]| know!"
103:171,22['  ]| Winterbourne, who had returned to Geneva the day after
103:171,23['  ]| his excursion to Chillon, went to Rome towards the end of
103:171,24['  ]| January.  His aunt had been established there for several weeks,
103:171,25['  ]| and he had received a couple of letters from her.  
103:171,25[D  ]| "Those
103:171,26[D  ]| people you were so devoted to last summer at Vevey have
103:171,27[D  ]| turned up here, courier and all,"  
103:171,27['  ]| she wrote.  
103:171,27[D  ]| "They seem to
103:171,28[D  ]| have made several acquaintances, but the courier continues to
103:171,29[D  ]| be the moste \9intime\.  The young lady, however, is also very
103:171,30[D  ]| intimate with some third-rate Italians, with whom she rackets
103:172,01[D  ]| about in a way that makes much talk.  Bring me that pretty
103:172,02[D  ]| novel of Cherbuliez's ~~ ""Paule*Me=re="" ~~ and don't come later
103:172,03[D  ]| than the 23rd."
103:172,04['  ]| In the natural course of events, Winterbourne, on arriving
103:172,05['  ]| in Rome, would presently have ascertained Mrs*Miller's address
103:172,06['  ]| at the American banker's and have gone to pay his
103:172,07['  ]| compliments to Miss*Daisy.  
103:172,07[A  ]| "After what happened in Vevey
103:172,08[A  ]| I certainly think I may call upon them," 
103:172,08['  ]| he said to Mrs*Costello.
103:172,09[D  ]| "If, after what happens ~~ at Vevey and everywhere ~~ you
103:172,10[D  ]| desire to keep up the acquaintance, you are very welcome.
103:172,11[D  ]| Of course a man may know every*one.  Men are welcome to
103:172,12[D  ]| the privilege!"
103:172,13[A  ]| "Pray what is it that happens ~~ here, for instance?"  
103:172,13['  ]| Winterbourne
103:172,14['  ]| demanded.
103:172,15[D  ]| "The girl goes about alone with her foreigners.  As to what
103:172,16[D  ]| happens farther, you must apply elsewhere for information.
103:172,17[D  ]| She has picked up half-a-dozen of the regular Roman fortune-hunters,
103:172,18[D  ]| and she takes them about to people's houses.  When
103:172,19[D  ]| she comes to a party she brings with her a gentleman with a
103:172,20[D  ]| good deal of manner and a wonderful moustache."
103:172,21[A  ]| "And where is the mother?"
103:172,22[D  ]| "I haven't the least idea.  They are very dreadful people."
103:172,23['  ]| Winterbourne meditated a moment.  
103:172,23[A  ]| "They are very ignorant
103:172,24[A  ]| ~~ very innocent only.  Depend upon it they are not bad."
103:172,25[D  ]| "They are hopelessly vulgar,"  
103:172,25['  ]| said Mrs*Costello.  
103:172,25[D  ]| "Whether
103:172,26[D  ]| or no being hopelessly vulgar is being ""bad"" is a question for
103:172,27[D  ]| the metaphysicians.  They are bad enough to dislike, at any
103:172,28[D  ]| rate; and for this short life that is quite enough."
103:172,29['  ]| The news that Daisy*Miller was surrounded by half-a-dozen
103:172,30['  ]| wonderful moustaches checked Winterbourne's impulse
103:172,31['  ]| to go straightway to see her.  He had perhaps not definitely
103:172,32['  ]| flattered himself that he had made an ineffaceable
103:172,33['  ]| impression upon her heart, but he was annoyed at hearing of
103:172,34['  ]| a state of affairs so little in harmony with an image that had
103:172,35['  ]| lately flitted in and out of his own meditations; the image of a
103:173,01['  ]| very pretty girl looking out of an old Roman window and
103:173,02['  ]| asking herself urgently when Mr*Winterbourne would arrive.
103:173,03['  ]| If, however, he determined to wait a little before reminding
103:173,04['  ]| Miss*Miller of his claims to her consideration, he went very
103:173,05['  ]| soon to call upon two or three other friends.  One of these
103:173,06['  ]| friends was an American lady who had spent several winters
103:173,07['  ]| at Geneva, where she had placed her children at school.  She
103:173,08['  ]| was a very accomplished woman and she lived in the Via*Gregoriana.
103:173,09['  ]| Winterbourne found her in a little crimson drawing-room,
103:173,10['  ]| on a third floor; the room was filled with southern
103:173,11['  ]| sunshine.  He had not been there ten minutes when the servant
103:173,12['  ]| came in, announcing 
103:173,12[W  ]| "Madame*Mila!"  
103:173,12['  ]| This announcement
103:173,13['  ]| was presently followed by the entrance of little Randolph*Miller,
103:173,14['  ]| who stopped in the middle of the room and stood
103:173,15['  ]| staring at Winterbourne.  An instant later his pretty sister
103:173,16['  ]| crossed the threshold; and then, after a considerable interval,
103:173,17['  ]| Mrs*Miller slowly advanced.
103:173,18[C  ]| "I know you!"  
103:173,18['  ]| said Randolph.
103:173,19[A  ]| "I'm sure you know a great many things," 
103:173,19['  ]| exclaimed
103:173,20['  ]| Winterbourne, taking him by the hand.  
103:173,20[A  ]| "How is your education
103:173,21[A  ]| coming on?"
103:173,22['  ]| Daisy was exchanging greetings very prettily with her
103:173,23['  ]| hostess; but when she heard Winterbourne's voice she quickly
103:173,24['  ]| turned her head.  
103:173,24[B  ]| "Well, I declare!"  
103:173,24['  ]| she said.
103:173,25[A  ]| "I told you I should come, you know,"  
103:173,25['  ]| Winterbourne
103:173,26['  ]| rejoined, smiling.
103:173,27[B  ]| "Well ~~ I didn't believe it," 
103:173,27['  ]| said Miss*Daisy.
103:173,28[A  ]| "I am much obliged to you," 
103:173,28['  ]| laughed the young man.
103:173,29[B  ]| "You might have come to see me!"  
103:173,29['  ]| said Daisy.
103:173,30[A  ]| "I arrived only yesterday."
103:173,31[B  ]| "I don't believe that!"  
103:173,31['  ]| the young girl declared.
103:173,32['  ]| Winterbourne turned with a protesting smile to her
103:173,33['  ]| mother; but this lady evaded his glance, and seating herself,
103:173,34['  ]| fixed her eyes upon her son.  
103:173,34[C  ]| "We've got a bigger place than
103:173,35[C  ]| this," 
103:173,35['  ]| said Randolph.  
103:173,35[C  ]| "It's all gold on the walls."
103:174,01['  ]| Mrs*Miller turned uneasily in her chair.  
103:174,01[E  ]| "I told you if I
103:174,02[E  ]| were to bring you, you would say something!"  
103:174,02['  ]| she murmured.
103:174,03['  ]|
103:174,04[C  ]| "I told \you\!"  
103:174,04['  ]| Randolph exclaimed.  
103:174,04[C  ]| "I tell \you\ sir!"  
103:174,04['  ]| he
103:174,05['  ]| added jocosely, giving Winterbourne a thump on the knee.
103:174,06[C  ]| "It \is\ bigger, too!"
103:174,07['  ]| Daisy had entered upon a lively conversation with her
103:174,08['  ]| hostess; Winterbourne judged it becoming to address a few
103:174,09['  ]| words to her mother.  
103:174,09[A  ]| "I hope you have been well since we
103:174,10[A  ]| parted at Vevey," 
103:174,10['  ]| he said.
103:174,11['  ]| Mrs*Miller now certainly looked at him ~~ at his chin.  
103:174,11[E  ]| "Not
103:174,12[E  ]| very well, sir," 
103:174,12['  ]| she answered.
103:174,13[C  ]| "She's got the dyspepsia," 
103:174,13['  ]| said Randolph.  
103:174,13[C  ]| "I've got it too.
103:174,14[C  ]| Father's got it.  I've got it worst!"
103:174,15['  ]| This announcement, instead of embarrassing Mrs*Miller,
103:174,16['  ]| seemed to relieve her.  
103:174,16[E  ]| "I suffer from the liver," 
103:174,16['  ]| she said.  
103:174,16[E  ]| "I
103:174,17[E  ]| think it's this climate; it's less bracing than Schenectady,
103:174,18[E  ]| especially in the winter season.  I don't know whether you
103:174,19[E  ]| know we reside at Schenectady.  I was saying to Daisy that 
103:174,19@e   | I
103:174,20@e   | certainly hadn't found any*one like Dr*Davis, and I didn't
103:174,21@e   | believe I should.  
103:174,21[E  ]| Oh, at Schenectady, he stands first; they
103:174,22[E  ]| think everything of him.  He has so much to do, and yet there
103:174,23[E  ]| was nothing he wouldn't do for me.  He said 
103:174,23@w   | he never saw
103:174,24@w   | anything like my dyspepsia, but he was bound to cure it.
103:174,25[E  ]| I'm sure there was nothing he wouldn't try.  He was just going
103:174,26[E  ]| to try something new when we came off.  Mr*Miller wanted
103:174,27[E  ]| Daisy to see Europe for herself.  But I wrote to Mr*Miller that
103:174,28@e   | it seems as if I couldn't get on without Dr*Davis.  
103:174,28[E  ]| At Schenectady
103:174,29[E  ]| he stands at the very top; and there's a great deal of
103:174,30[E  ]| sickness there, too.  It affects my sleep."
103:174,34['  ]| Winterbourne had a good deal of pathological gossip with
103:174,32['  ]| Dr*Davis's patient, during which Daisy chattered unremittingly
103:174,33['  ]| to her own companion.  The young man asked Mrs*Miller
103:174,34@a   | how she was pleased with Rome.  
103:174,34[E  ]| "Well, I must say I
103:174,35[E  ]| am disappointed," 
103:174,35['  ]| she answered.  
103:174,35[E  ]| "We had heard so much
103:175,01[E  ]| about it; I suppose we had heard too much.  But we couldn't
103:175,02[E  ]| help that.  We had been led to expect something different."
103:175,03[A  ]| "Ah, wait a little, and you will become very fond of it,"
103:175,04['  ]| said Winterbourne.
103:175,05[C  ]| "I hate it worse and worse every day!"  
103:175,05['  ]| cried Randolph.
103:175,06[A  ]| "You are like the infant Hannibal,"  
103:175,06['  ]| said Winterbourne.
103:175,07[C  ]| "No, I ain't!"  
103:175,07['  ]| Randolph declared, at a venture.
103:175,08[E  ]| "You are not much like an infant," 
103:175,08['  ]| said his mother.  
103:175,08[E  ]| "But
103:175,09[E  ]| we have seen places," 
103:175,09['  ]| she resumed, 
103:175,09[E  ]| "that I should put a long
103:175,10[E  ]| way before Rome."  
103:175,10['  ]| And in reply to Winterbourne's interrogation,
103:175,11[E  ]| "There's Zurich," 
103:175,11['  ]| she observed; 
103:175,11[E  ]| "I think Zurich is
103:175,12[E  ]| lovely; and we hadn't heard half so much about it."
103:175,13[C  ]| "The best place we've seen is the City*of*Richmond!"  
103:175,13['  ]| said
103:175,14['  ]| Randolph.
103:175,15[E  ]| "He means the ship," 
103:175,15['  ]| his mother explained.  
103:175,15[E  ]| "We crossed
103:175,16[E  ]| in that ship.  Randolph had a good time on the City*of*Richmond."
103:175,17[E  ]|
103:175,18[C  ]| "It's the best place I've seen," 
103:175,18['  ]| the child repeated.  
103:175,18[C  ]| "Only
103:175,19[C  ]| it was turned the wrong way."
103:175,20[E  ]| "Well, we've got to turn the right way some time," 
103:175,20['  ]| said
103:175,21['  ]| Mrs*Miller, with a little laugh.  Winterbourne expressed the
103:175,22['  ]| hope that 
103:175,22@a   | her daughter at least found some gratification in
103:175,23@a   | Rome, 
103:175,23['  ]| and she declared that 
103:175,23@e   | Daisy was quite carried away.
103:175,24[E  ]| "It's on account of the society ~~ the society's splendid.  She
103:175,25[E  ]| goes round everywhere; she has made a great number of
103:175,26[E  ]| acquaintances.  Of course she goes round more than I do.  I
103:175,27[E  ]| must say they have been very sociable; they have taken her
103:175,28[E  ]| right in.  And then she knows a great many gentlemen.  Oh,
103:175,29[E  ]| she thinks there's nothing like Rome.  Of course, it's a great
103:175,30[E  ]| deal pleasanter for a young lady if she knows plenty of
103:175,31[E  ]| gentlemen."
103:175,32['  ]| By this time Daisy had turned her attention again to
103:175,33['  ]| Winterbourne.  
103:175,33[B  ]| "I've been telling Mrs*Walker how mean you
103:175,34[B  ]| were!"  
103:175,34['  ]| the young girl announced.
103:175,35[A  ]| "And what is the evidence you have offered?"  
103:175,35['  ]| said
103:176,01['  ]| Winterbourne, rather annoyed at Miss*Miller's want of appreciation
103:176,02['  ]| of the zeal of an admirer who on his way down to
103:176,03['  ]| Rome had stopped neither at Bologna nor at Florence, simply
103:176,04['  ]| because of a certain sentimental impatience.  He remembered
103:176,05['  ]| that a cynical compatriot had once told him that 
103:176,05@w   | American
103:176,06@w   | women ~~ 
103:176,06['  ]| the pretty ones, and this gave a largeness to the
103:176,07['  ]| axiom ~~ 
103:176,07@w   | were at once the most exacting in the world and the
103:176,08@w   | least endowed with a sense of indebtedness.
103:176,09[B  ]| "Why, you were awfully mean at Vevey," 
103:176,09['  ]| said Daisy.
103:176,10[B  ]| "You wouldn't do anything.  You wouldn't stay there when
103:176,11[B  ]| I asked you."
103:176,12[A  ]| "My dearest young lady," 
103:176,12['  ]| cried Winterbourne, with eloquence,
103:176,13[A  ]| "have I come all the way to Rome to encounter your
103:176,14[A  ]| reproaches?"
103:176,15[B  ]| "Just hear him say that!"  
103:176,15['  ]| said Daisy to her hostess, giving
103:176,16['  ]| a twist to a bow on this lady's dress.  
103:176,16[B  ]| "Did you ever hear
103:176,17[B  ]| anything so quaint?"
103:176,18[G  ]| "So quaint, my dear?"  
103:176,18['  ]| murmured Mrs*Walker, in the tone
103:176,19['  ]| of a partisan of Winterbourne.
103:176,20[B  ]| "Well, I don't know," 
103:176,20['  ]| said Daisy, fingering Mrs*Walker's
103:176,21['  ]| ribbons.  
103:176,21[B  ]| "Mrs*Walker, I want to tell you something."
103:176,22[C  ]| "Motherr," 
103:176,22['  ]| interposed Randolph, with his rough ends to
103:176,23['  ]| his words, 
103:176,23[C  ]| "I tell you you've got to go.  Eugenio'll raise
103:176,24[C  ]| something!"
103:176,25[B  ]| "I'm not afraid of Eugenio," 
103:176,25['  ]| said Daisy, with a toss of her
103:176,26['  ]| head.  
103:176,26[B  ]| "Look here, Mrs*Walker," 
103:176,26['  ]| she went on, 
103:176,26[B  ]| "you know
103:176,27[B  ]| I'm coming to your party."
103:176,28[G  ]| "I am delighted to hear it."
103:176,29[B  ]| "I've got a lovely dress."
103:176,30[G  ]| "I am very sure of that."
103:176,31[B  ]| "But I want to ask a favour ~~ permission to bring a friend."
103:176,32[G  ]| "I shall be happy to see any of your friends," 
103:176,32['  ]| said Mrs*Walker,
103:176,33['  ]| turning with a smile to Mrs*Miller.
103:176,34[E  ]| "Oh, they are not my friends," 
103:176,34['  ]| answered Daisy's mamma,
103:176,35['  ]| smiling shyly, in her own fashion.  
103:176,35[E  ]| "I never spoke to them!"
103:177,01[B  ]| "It's an intimate friend of mine ~~ Mr*Giovanelli," 
103:177,01['  ]| said
103:177,02['  ]| Daisy, without a tremor in her clear little voice or a shadow on
103:177,03['  ]| her brilliant little face.
103:177,04['  ]| Mrs*Walker was silent a moment, she gave a rapid glance
103:177,05['  ]| at Winterbourne.  
103:177,05[G  ]| "I shall be glad to see Mr*Giovanelli," 
103:177,05['  ]| she
103:177,06['  ]| then said.
103:177,07[B  ]| "He's an Italian," 
103:177,07['  ]| Daisy pursued, with the prettiest serenity.
103:177,08[B  ]| "He's a great friend of mine ~~ he's the handsomest man in the
103:177,09[B  ]| world ~~ except Mr*Winterbourne!  He knows plenty of
103:177,10[B  ]| Italians, but he wants to know some Americans.  He thinks
103:177,11[B  ]| ever so much of Americans.  He's tremendously clever.  He's
103:177,12[B  ]| perfectly lovely!"
103:177,13['  ]| It was settled that this brilliant personage should be
103:177,14['  ]| brought to Mrs*Walker's party, and then Mrs*Miller prepared
103:177,15['  ]| to take her leave.  
103:177,15[E  ]| "I guess we'll go back to the hotel,"
103:177,16['  ]| she said.
103:177,17[B  ]| "You may go back to the hotel, mother, but I'm going to
103:177,18[B  ]| take a walk," 
103:177,18['  ]| said Daisy.
103:177,19[C  ]| "She's going to walk with Mr*Giovanelli," 
103:177,19['  ]| Randolph proclaimed.
103:177,20['  ]|
103:177,21[B  ]| "I am going to the Pincio," 
103:177,21['  ]| said Daisy, smiling.
103:177,22[G  ]| "Alone, my dear ~~ at this hour?"  
103:177,22['  ]| Mrs*Walker asked.  The
103:177,23['  ]| afternoon was drawing to a close ~~ it was the hour for the
103:177,24['  ]| throng of carriages and of contemplative pedestrians.  
103:177,24[G  ]| "I don't
103:177,25[G  ]| think it's safe, my dear," 
103:177,25['  ]| said Mrs*Walker.
103:177,26[E  ]| "Neither do I," 
103:177,26['  ]| subjoined Mrs*Miller.  
103:177,26[E  ]| "You'll get the fever
103:177,27[E  ]| as sure as you live.  Remember what Dr*Davis told you!"
103:177,28[C  ]| "Give her some medicine before she goes," 
103:177,28['  ]| said Randolph.
103:177,29['  ]| The company had risen to its feet; Daisy, still showing her
103:177,30['  ]| pretty teeth, bent over and kissed her hostess.  
103:177,30[B  ]| "Mrs*Walker,
103:177,31[B  ]| you are too perfect," 
103:177,31['  ]| she said.  
103:177,31[B  ]| "I'm not going alone; I am
103:177,32[B  ]| going to meet a friend."
103:177,33[E  ]| "Your friend won't keep you from getting the fever,"  
103:177,33['  ]| Mrs*Miller
103:177,34['  ]| observed.
103:177,35[G  ]| "Is it Mr*Giovanelli?"  
103:177,35['  ]| asked the hostess.
103:178,01['  ]| Winterbourne was watching the young girl; at this question
103:178,02['  ]| his attention quickened.  She stood there smiling and smoothing
103:178,03['  ]| her bonnet-ribbons; she glanced at Winterbourne.  Then,
103:178,04['  ]| while she glanced and smiled, she answered without a shade
103:178,05['  ]| of hesitation, 
103:178,05[B  ]| "Mr*Giovanelli ~~ the beautiful Giovanelli."
103:178,06[G  ]| "My dear young friend," 
103:178,06['  ]| said Mrs*Walker, taking her
103:178,07['  ]| hand, pleadingly, 
103:178,07[G  ]| "don't walk off to the Pincio at this hour to
103:178,08[G  ]| meet a beautiful Italian."
103:178,09[E  ]| "Well, he speaks English,"  
103:178,09['  ]| said Mrs*Miller.
103:178,10[B  ]| "Gracious me!"  
103:178,10['  ]| Daisy exclaimed, 
103:178,10[B  ]| "I don't want to do
103:178,11[B  ]| anything improper.  There's an easy way to settle it."  
103:178,11['  ]| She
103:178,12['  ]| continued to glance at Winterbourne.  
103:178,12[B  ]| "The Pincio is only a
103:178,13[B  ]| hundred yards distant, and if Mr*Winterbourne were as polite
103:178,14[B  ]| as he pretends he would offer to walk with me!"
103:178,15['  ]| Winterbourne's politeness hastened to affirm itself, and the
103:178,16['  ]| young girl gave him gracious leave to accompany her.  They
103:178,17['  ]| passed down-stairs before her mother, and at the door Winterbourne
103:178,18['  ]| perceived Mrs*Miller's carriage drawn up, with the
103:178,19['  ]| ornamental courier whose acquaintance he had made at Vevey
103:178,20['  ]| seated within.  
103:178,20[B  ]| "Good-bye, Eugenio!"  
103:178,20['  ]| cried Daisy, 
103:178,20[B  ]| "I'm
103:178,21[B  ]| going to take a walk."  
103:178,21['  ]| The distance from the Via*Gregoriana
103:178,22['  ]| to the beautiful garden at the other end of the Pincian*Hill is,
103:178,23['  ]| in fact, rapidly traversed.  As the day was splendid, however,
103:178,24['  ]| and the concourse of vehicles, walkers, and loungers numerous,
103:178,25['  ]| the young Americans found their progress much delayed.
103:178,26['  ]| This fact was highly agreeable to Winterbourne, in spite of
103:178,27['  ]| his consciousness of his singular situation.  The slow-moving,
103:178,28['  ]| idly-gazing Roman crowd bestowed much attention upon the
103:178,29['  ]| extremely pretty young foreign lady who was passing through
103:178,30['  ]| it upon his arm; and he wondered 
103:178,30@a   | what on earth had been in
103:178,31@a   | Daisy's mind when she proposed to expose herself, unattended,
103:178,32@a   | to its appreciation.  His own mission, to her sense,
103:178,33@a   | apparently, was to consign her to the hands of Mr*Giovanelli;
103:178,34['  ]| but Winterbourne, at once annoyed and gratified, resolved
103:178,35['  ]| that 
103:178,35@a   | he would do no such thing.
103:179,01[B  ]| "Why haven't you been to see me?"  
103:179,01['  ]| asked Daisy.  
103:179,01[B  ]| "You
103:179,02[B  ]| can't get out of that."
103:179,03[A  ]| "I have had the honour of telling you that I have only just
103:179,04[A  ]| stepped out of the train."
103:179,05[B  ]| "You must have stayed in the train a good while after it
103:179,06[B  ]| stopped!"  
103:179,06['  ]| cried the young girl, with her little laugh.  
103:179,06[B  ]| "I suppose
103:179,07[B  ]| you were asleep.  You have had time to go to see Mrs*Walker."
103:179,08[B  ]|
103:179,09[A  ]| "I knew Mrs*Walker ~~ " 
103:179,09['  ]| Winterbourne began to explain.
103:179,10[B  ]| "I knew where you knew her.  You knew her at Geneva.
103:179,11[B  ]| She told me so.  Well, you knew me at Vevey.  That's just as
103:179,12[B  ]| good.  So you ought to have come."  
103:179,12['  ]| She asked him no other
103:179,13['  ]| question than this; she began to prattle about her own affairs.
103:179,14[B  ]| "We've got splendid rooms at the hotel; Eugenio says 
103:179,14@f   | they're
103:179,15@f   | the best rooms in Rome.  
103:179,15[B  ]| We are going to stay all winter ~~ if
103:179,16[B  ]| we don't die of the fever; and I guess we'll stay then.  It's a
103:179,17[B  ]| great deal nicer than I thought; I thought it would be fearfully
103:179,18[B  ]| quiet; I was sure it would be awfully poky.  I was sure we
103:179,19[B  ]| should be going round all the time with one of those dreadful
103:179,20[B  ]| old men that explain about the pictures and things.  But we
103:179,21[B  ]| only had about a week of that, and now I'm enjoying myself.
103:179,22[B  ]| I know ever so many people, and they are all so charming.  The
103:179,23[B  ]| society's extremely select.  There are all kinds ~~ English, and
103:179,24[B  ]| Germans, and Italians.  I think I like the English best.  I like
103:179,25[B  ]| their style of conversation.  But there are some lovely Americans.
103:179,26[B  ]| I never saw anything so hospitable.  There's something
103:179,27[B  ]| or other every day.  There's not much dancing; but I must say
103:179,28[B  ]| I never thought dancing was everything.  I was always fond
103:179,29[B  ]| of conversation.  I guess I shall have plenty at Mrs*Walker's ~~
103:179,30[B  ]| her rooms are so small."  
103:179,30['  ]| When they had passed the gate of the
103:179,31['  ]| Pincian*Gardens, Miss*Miller began to wonder where Mr*Giovanelli
103:179,32['  ]| might be.  
103:179,32[B  ]| "We had better go straight to that place
103:179,33[B  ]| in front,"  
103:179,33['  ]| she said,  
103:179,33[B  ]| "where you look at the view."
103:179,34[A  ]| "I certainly shall not help you to find him," 
103:179,34['  ]| Winterbourne
103:179,35['  ]| declared.
103:180,01[B  ]| "Then I shall find him without you," 
103:180,01['  ]| said Miss*Daisy.
103:180,02[A  ]| "You certainly won't leave me!"  
103:180,02['  ]| cried Winterbourne.
103:180,03['  ]| She burst into her little laugh.  
103:180,03[B  ]| "Are you afraid you'll get
103:180,04[B  ]| lost ~~ or run over?  But there's Giovanelli, leaning against that
103:180,05[B  ]| tree.  He's staring at the women in the carriages:  did you ever
103:180,06[B  ]| see anything so cool?"
103:180,07['  ]| Winterbourne perceived at some distance a little man standing
103:180,08['  ]| with folded arms, nursing his cane.  He had a handsome
103:180,09['  ]| face, an artfully poised hat, a glass in one eye and a nosegay in
103:180,10['  ]| his button-hole.  Winterbourne looked at him a moment and
103:180,11['  ]| then said, 
103:180,11[A  ]| "Do you mean to speak to that man?"
103:180,12[B  ]| "Do I mean to speak to him?  Why, you don't suppose I
103:180,13[B  ]| mean to communicate by signs?"
103:180,14[A  ]| "Pray understand, then," 
103:180,14['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
103:180,14[A  ]| "that I intend
103:180,15[A  ]| to remain with you."
103:180,16['  ]| Daisy stopped and looked at him, without a sign of troubled
103:180,17['  ]| consciousness in her face; with nothing but the presence of
103:180,18['  ]| her charming eyes and her happy dimples.  
103:180,18@a   | "Well, she's a cool
103:180,19@a   | one!"  
103:180,19['  ]| thought the young man.
103:180,20[B  ]| "I don't like the way you say that," 
103:180,20['  ]| said Daisy.  
103:180,20[B  ]| "It's too
103:180,21[B  ]| imperious."
103:180,22[A  ]| "I beg your pardon if I say it wrong.  The main point is to
103:180,23[A  ]| give you an idea of my meaning."
103:180,24['  ]| The young girl looked at him more gravely, but with eyes
103:180,25['  ]| that were prettier than ever.  
103:180,25[B  ]| "I have never allowed a gentleman
103:180,26[B  ]| to dictate to me, or to interfere with anything I do."
103:180,27[A  ]| "I think you have made a mistake," 
103:180,27['  ]| said Winterbourne.
103:180,28[A  ]| "You should sometimes listen to a gentleman ~~ the right
103:180,29[A  ]| one?"
103:180,30['  ]| Daisy began to laugh again.  
103:180,30[B  ]| "I do nothing but listen to
103:180,31[B  ]| gentlemen!"  
103:180,31['  ]| she exclaimed.  
103:180,31[B  ]| "Tell me if Mr*Giovanelli is the
103:180,32[B  ]| right one."
103:180,33['  ]| The gentleman with the nosegay in his bosom had now
103:180,34['  ]| perceived our two friends, and was approaching the young girl
103:180,35['  ]| with obsequious rapidity.  He bowed to Winterbourne as well
103:181,01['  ]| as to the latter's companion; he had a brilliant smile, an intelligent
103:181,02['  ]| eye; Winterbourne thought him 
103:181,02@a   | not a bad-looking
103:181,03@a   | fellow.  
103:181,03['  ]| But he nevertheless said to Daisy ~~ 
103:181,03[A  ]| "No, he's not the
103:181,04[A  ]| right one."
103:181,05['  ]| Daisy evidently had a natural talent for performing introductions;
103:181,06['  ]| she mentioned the name of each of her companions
103:181,07['  ]| to the other.  She strolled along with one of them on each side
103:181,08['  ]| of her; Mr*Giovanelli, who spoke English very cleverly ~~
103:181,09['  ]| Winterbourne afterwards learned that he had practised the
103:181,10['  ]| idiom upon a great many American heiresses ~~ addressed her
103:181,11['  ]| a great deal of very polite nonsense; he was extremely urbane,
103:181,12['  ]| and the young American, who said nothing, reflected upon
103:181,13['  ]| that profundity of Italian cleverness which enables people to
103:181,14['  ]| appear more gracious in proportion as they are more acutely
103:181,15['  ]| disappointed.  Giovanelli, of course, had counted upon something
103:181,16['  ]| more intimate; he had not bargained for a party of three.
103:181,17['  ]| But he kept his temper in a manner which suggested far-stretching
103:181,18['  ]| intentions.  Winterbourne flattered himself that he
103:181,19['  ]| had taken his measure.  
103:181,19@a   | "He is not a gentleman," 
103:181,19['  ]| said the
103:181,20['  ]| young American; 
103:181,20@a   | "he is only a clever imitation of one.  He is
103:181,21@a   | a music-master, or a penny-a-liner, or a third-rate artist.
103:181,22@a   | Damn his good looks!"  
103:181,22['  ]| Mr*Giovanelli had certainly a very
103:181,23['  ]| pretty face; but Winterbourne felt a superior indignation at
103:181,24['  ]| his own lovely fellow-countrywoman's not knowing the
103:181,25['  ]| difference between a spurious gentleman and a real one.
103:181,26['  ]| Giovanelli chattered and jested and made himself wonderfully
103:181,27['  ]| agreeable.  It was true that if he was an imitation the imitation
103:181,28['  ]| was very skilful.  
103:181,28@a   | "Nevertheless," 
103:181,28['  ]| Winterbourne said to himself,
103:181,29@a   | "a nice girl ought to know!"  
103:181,29['  ]| And then he came back to
103:181,30['  ]| the question 
103:181,30@a   | whether this was in fact a nice girl.  Would a nice
103:181,31@a   | girl ~~ even allowing for her being a little American flirt ~~
103:181,32@a   | make a rendezvous with a presumably low-lived foreigner?
103:181,33@a   | The rendezvous in this case, indeed, had been in broad daylight,
103:181,34@a   | and in the most crowded corner of Rome; but was it
103:181,35@a   | not impossible to regard the choice of these circumstances as
103:182,01@a   | a proof of extreme cynicism?  
103:182,01['  ]| Singular though it may seem,
103:182,02['  ]| Winterbourne was vexed that the young girl, in joining her
103:182,03['  ]| \8amoroso\, should not appear more impatient of his own company,
103:182,04['  ]| and he was vexed because of his inclination.  It was impossible
103:182,05['  ]| to regard her as a perfectly well-conducted young
103:182,06['  ]| lady; she was wanting in a certain indispensable delicacy.  It
103:182,07['  ]| would therefore simplify matters greatly to be able to treat
103:182,08['  ]| her as the object of one of those sentiments which are called
103:182,09['  ]| by romancers "lawless passions."  That she should seem to
103:182,10['  ]| wish to get rid of him would help him to think more lightly
103:182,11['  ]| of her, and to be able to think more lightly of her would make
103:182,12['  ]| her much less perplexing.  But Daisy, on this occasion, continued
103:182,13['  ]| to present herself as an inscrutable combination of
103:182,14['  ]| audacity and innocence.
103:182,15['  ]| She had been walking some quarter of an hour, attended
103:182,16['  ]| by her two cavaliers, and responding in a tone of very childish
103:182,17['  ]| gaiety, as it seemed to Winterbourne, to the pretty speeches
103:182,18['  ]| of Mr*Giovanelli, when a carriage that had detached itself
103:182,19['  ]| from the revolving train drew up beside the path.  At the
103:182,20['  ]| same moment Winterbourne perceived that his friend Mrs*Walker
103:182,21['  ]| ~~ the lady whose house he had lately left ~~ was seated
103:182,22['  ]| in the vehicle and was beckoning to him.  Leaving Miss*Miller's
103:182,23['  ]| side, he hastened to obey her summons.  Mrs*Walker
103:182,24['  ]| was flushed; she wore an excited air.  
103:182,24[G  ]| "It is really too dreadful,"
103:182,25['  ]| she said.  
103:182,25[G  ]| "That girl must not do this sort of thing.  She must
103:182,26[G  ]| not walk here with you two men.  Fifty people have noticed
103:182,27[G  ]| her."
103:182,28['  ]| Winterbourne raised his eyebrows.  
103:182,28[A  ]| "I think it's a pity to
103:182,29[A  ]| make too much fuss about it."
103:182,30[G  ]| "It's a pity to let the girl ruin herself!"
103:182,31[A  ]| "She is very innocent," 
103:182,31['  ]| said Winterbourne.
103:182,32[G  ]| "She's very crazy!"  
103:182,32['  ]| cried Mrs*Walker.  
103:182,32[G  ]| "Did you ever see
103:182,33[G  ]| anything so imbecile as her mother?  After you had all left
103:182,34[G  ]| me, just now, I could not sit still for thinking of it.  It seemed
103:182,35[G  ]| too pitiful, not even to attempt to save her.  I ordered the
103:183,01[G  ]| carriage and put on my bonnet, and came here as quickly as
103:183,02[G  ]| possible.  Thank heaven I have found you!"
103:183,03[A  ]| "What do you propose to do with us?"  
103:183,03['  ]| asked Winterbourne,
103:183,04['  ]| smiling.
103:183,05[G  ]| "To ask her to get in, to drive her about her for half-an-hour,
103:183,06[G  ]| so that the world may see she is not running absolutely
103:183,07[G  ]| wild, and then to take her safely home."
103:183,08[A  ]| "I don't think it's a very happy thought," 
103:183,08['  ]| said Winterbourne;
103:183,09[A  ]| "but you can try."
103:183,10['  ]| Mrs*Walker tried.  The young man went in pursuit of Miss*Miller,
103:183,11['  ]| who had simply nodded and smiled at his interlocutrix
103:183,12['  ]| in the carriage and had gone her way with her own companion.
103:183,13['  ]| Daisy, on learning that Mrs*Walker wished to speak to her,
103:183,14['  ]| retraced her steps with a perfect good grace and with Mr*Giovanelli
103:183,15['  ]| at her side.  She declared that 
103:183,15@b   | she was delighted to
103:183,16@b   | have a chance to present this gentleman to Mrs*Walker.  
103:183,16['  ]| She
103:183,17['  ]| immediately achieved the introduction, and declared that 
103:183,17@b   | she
103:183,18@b   | had never in her life, seen anything so lovely as Mrs*Walker's
103:183,19@b   | carriage-rug.
103:183,20[G  ]| "I am glad you admire it," 
103:183,20['  ]| said this lady, smiling sweetly.
103:183,21[G  ]| "Will you get in and let me put it over you?"
103:183,22[B  ]| "Oh, no, thank you," 
103:183,22['  ]| said Daisy.  
103:183,22[B  ]| "I shall admire it much
103:183,23[B  ]| more as I see you driving round with it."
103:183,24[G  ]| "Do get in and drive with me," 
103:183,24['  ]| said Mrs*Walker.
103:183,25[B  ]| "That would be charming but it's so enchanting just as I
103:183,26[B  ]| am!"  
103:183,26['  ]| and Daisy gave a brilliant glance at the gentlemen on
103:183,27['  ]| either side of her.
103:183,28[G  ]| "It may be enchanting, dear child, but it is not the custom
103:183,29[G  ]| here,"  
103:183,29['  ]| urged Mrs*Walker, leaning forward in her victoria
103:183,30['  ]| with her hands devoutly clasped.
103:183,31[B  ]| "Well, it ought to be, then!"  
103:183,31['  ]| said Daisy.  
103:183,31[B  ]| "If I didn't walk
103:183,32[B  ]| I should expire."
103:183,33[G  ]| "You should walk with your mother, dear," 
103:183,33['  ]| cried the lady
103:183,34['  ]| from Geneva, losing patience.
103:183,35[B  ]| "With my mother dear!"  
103:183,35['  ]| exclaimed the young girl.
103:184,01['  ]| Winterbourne saw that she scented interference.  
103:184,01[B  ]| "My mother
103:184,02[B  ]| never walked ten steps in her life.  And then, you know," 
103:184,02['  ]| she
103:184,03['  ]| added with a laugh, 
103:184,03[B  ]| "I am more than five years old."
103:184,04[G  ]| "You are old enough to be more reasonable.  You are old
103:184,05[G  ]| enough, dear Miss*Miller, to be talked about."
103:184,06['  ]| Daisy looked at Mrs*Walker, smiling intensely.  
103:184,06[B  ]| "Talked
103:184,07[B  ]| about?  What do you mean?"
103:184,08[G  ]| "Come into my carriage and I will tell you."
103:184,09['  ]| Daisy turned her quickened glance again from one of the
103:184,10['  ]| gentlemen beside her to the other.  Mr*Giovanelli was bowing
103:184,11['  ]| to*and*fro, rubbing down his gloves and laughing very agreeably;
103:184,12['  ]| Winterbourne thought it a most unpleasant scene.  
103:184,12[B  ]| "I
103:184,13[B  ]| don't think I want to know what you mean," 
103:184,13['  ]| said Daisy presently.
103:184,14[B  ]| "I don't think I should like it."
103:184,15['  ]| Winterbourne wished that Mrs*Walker would tuck in her
103:184,16['  ]| carriage-rug and drive away; but this lady 
103:184,16@g   | did not enjoy being
103:184,17@g   | defied, 
103:184,17['  ]| as she afterwards told him.  
103:184,17[G  ]| "Should you prefer being
103:184,18[G  ]| thought a very reckless girl?"  
103:184,18['  ]| she demanded.
103:184,19[B  ]| "Gracious me!"  
103:184,19['  ]| exclaimed Daisy.  She looked again at Mr*Giovanelli,
103:184,20['  ]| then she turned to Winterbourne. There was a
103:184,21['  ]| little pink flush in her cheek; she was tremendously pretty.
103:184,22[B  ]| "Does Mr*Winterbourne think," 
103:184,22['  ]| she asked slowly, smiling,
103:184,23['  ]| throwing back her head and glancing at him from head to
103:184,24['  ]| foot, 
103:184,24[B  ]| "that ~~ to save my reputation ~~ I ought to get into the
103:184,25[B  ]| carriage?"
103:184,26['  ]| Winterbourne coloured; for an instant he hesitated greatly.
103:184,27['  ]| It seemed 
103:184,27@a   | so strange to hear her speak that way of her
103:184,28@a   | "reputation."  But he himself, in fact, must speak in accordance
103:184,29@a   | with gallantry.  The finest gallantry, here, was simply to tell
103:184,30@a   | her the truth; 
103:184,30['  ]| and the truth, for Winterbourne, as the few
103:184,31['  ]| indications I have been able to give have made him known to
103:184,32['  ]| the reader, was that
103:184,32@a   | Daisy*Miller should take Mrs*Walker's
103:184,33@a   | advice.  
103:184,33['  ]| He looked at her exquisite prettiness; and then he said
103:184,34['  ]| very gently, 
103:184,34[A  ]| "I think you should get into the carriage."
103:184,35['  ]| Daisy gave a violent laugh.  
103:184,35[B  ]| "I never heard anything so
103:185,01[B  ]| stiff!  If this is improper, Mrs*Walker," 
103:185,01['  ]| she pursued, 
103:185,01[B  ]| "then
103:185,02[B  ]| I am all improper, and you must give me up.  Good-bye; I
103:185,03[B  ]| hope you'll have a lovely ride!"  
103:185,03['  ]| and, with Mr*Giovanelli,
103:185,04['  ]| who made a triumphantly obsequious salute, she turned away.
103:185,05['  ]| Mrs*Walker sat looking after her, and there were tears in
103:185,06['  ]| Mrs*Walker's eyes.  
103:185,06[G  ]| "Get in here, sir," 
103:185,06['  ]| she said to Winterbourne,
103:185,07['  ]| indicating the place beside her.  The young man
103:185,08['  ]| answered that 
103:185,08@a   | he felt bound to accompany Miss*Miller; 
103:185,08['  ]| whereupon
103:185,09['  ]| Mrs*Walker declared that 
103:185,09@g   | if he refused her this favour
103:185,10@g   | she would never speak to him again.  
103:185,10@a   | She was evidently in
103:185,11@a   | earnest.  
103:185,11['  ]| Winterbourne overtook Daisy and her companion,
103:185,12['  ]| and, offering the young girl his hand, told her that 
103:185,12@a   | Mrs*Walker
103:185,13@a   | had made an imperious claim upon his society.  
103:185,13['  ]| He
103:185,14['  ]| expected that in answer she would say something rather free,
103:185,15['  ]| something to commit herself still farther to that "recklessness"
103:185,16['  ]| from which Mrs*Walker had so charitably endeavoured to
103:185,17['  ]| dissuade her.  But she only shook his hand, hardly looking at
103:185,18['  ]| him, while Mr*Giovanelli bade him farewell with a too
103:185,19['  ]| emphatic flourish of the hat.
103:185,20['  ]| Winterbourne was not in the best possible humour as he
103:185,21['  ]| took his seat in Mrs*Walker's victoria.  
103:185,21[A  ]| "That was not clever
103:185,22[A  ]| of you," 
103:185,22['  ]| he said candidly, while the vehicle mingled again
103:185,23['  ]| with the throng of carriages.
103:185,24[G  ]| "In such a case," 
103:185,24['  ]| his companion answered, 
103:185,24[G  ]| "I don't wish
103:185,25[G  ]| to be clever, I wish to be \earnest\!"
103:185,26[A  ]| "Well, your earnestness has only offended her and put her
103:185,27[A  ]| off."
103:185,28[G  ]| "It has happened very well," 
103:185,28['  ]| said Mrs*Walker.  
103:185,28[G  ]| "If she is
103:185,29[G  ]| so perfectly determined to compromise herself, the sooner one
103:185,30[G  ]| knows it the better; one can act accordingly."
103:185,31[A  ]| "I suspect she meant no harm," 
103:185,31['  ]| Winterbourne rejoined.
103:185,32[G  ]| "So I thought a month ago.  But she has been going too far."
103:185,33[A  ]| "What has she been doing?"
103:185,34[G  ]| "Everything that is not done here. Flirting with any man
103:185,35[G  ]| she could pick up; sitting in corners with mysterious Italians;
103:186,01[G  ]| dancing all the evening with the same partners; receiving visits
103:186,02[G  ]| at eleven o'clock at night.  Her mother goes away when visitors
103:186,03[G  ]| come."
103:186,04[A  ]| "But her brother," 
103:186,04['  ]| said Winterbourne, laughing, 
103:186,04[A  ]| "sits up
103:186,05[A  ]| till midnight."
103:186,06[G  ]| "He must be edified by what he sees.  I'm told that at their
103:186,07[G  ]| hotel every*one is talking about her, and that a smile goes
103:186,08[G  ]| round among the servants when a gentleman comes and asks
103:186,09[G  ]| for Miss*Miller."
103:186,10[A  ]| "The servants be hanged!"  
103:186,10['  ]| said Winterbourne angrily.
103:186,11[A  ]| "The poor girl's only fault," 
103:186,11['  ]| he presently added, 
103:186,11[A  ]| "is that she
103:186,12[A  ]| is very uncultivated."
103:186,13[G  ]| "She is naturally indelicate," 
103:186,13['  ]| Mrs*Walker declared.  
103:186,13[G  ]| "Take
103:186,14[G  ]| that example this morning.  How long had you known her at
103:186,15[G  ]| Vevey?"
103:186,16[A  ]| "A couple of days."
103:186,17[G  ]| "Fancy, then, her making it a personal matter that you
103:186,18[G  ]| should have left the place!"
103:186,19['  ]| Winterbourne was silent for some moments; then he said,
103:186,20[A  ]| "I suspect, Mrs*Walker, that you and I have lived too long
103:186,21[A  ]| at Geneva!"  
103:186,21['  ]| And he added a request that 
103:186,21@a   | she should inform
103:186,22@a   | him with what particular design she had made him enter her
103:186,23@a   | carriage.
103:186,24[G  ]| "I wished to beg you to cease your relations with Miss*Miller
103:186,25[G  ]| ~~ not to flirt with her ~~ to give her no farther opportunity
103:186,26[G  ]| to expose herself ~~ to let her alone, in short."
103:186,27[A  ]| "I'm afraid I can't do that," 
103:186,27['  ]| said Winterbourne.  
103:186,27[A  ]| "I like
103:186,28[A  ]| her extremely."
103:186,29[G  ]| "All the more reason that you shouldn't help her to make
103:186,30[G  ]| a scandal."
103:186,31[A  ]| "There shall be nothing scandalous in my attentions to her."
103:186,32[G  ]| "There certainly will be in the way she takes them.  But I
103:186,33[G  ]| have said what I had on my conscience,"  
103:186,33['  ]| Mrs*Walker pursued.
103:186,34[G  ]| "If you wish to rejoin the young lady I will put you down.
103:186,35[G  ]| Here, by-the-way, you have a chance."
103:187,01['  ]| The carriage was traversing that part of the Pincian*Garden
103:187,02['  ]| which overhangs the wall of Rome and overlooks the beautiful
103:187,03['  ]| Villa*Borghese.  It is bordered by a large parapet, near
103:187,04['  ]| which there are several seats.  One of the seats, at a distance,
103:187,05['  ]| was occupied by a gentleman and a lady, towards whom Mrs*Walker
103:187,06['  ]| gave a toss of her head.  At the same moment these
103:187,07['  ]| persons rose and walked towards the parapet.  Winterbourne
103:187,08['  ]| had asked the coachman to stop; he now descended from the
103:187,09['  ]| carriage.  His companion looked at him a moment in silence;
103:187,10['  ]| then, when he raised his hat, she drove majestically away.
103:187,11['  ]| Winterbourne stood there; he had turned his eyes towards
103:187,12['  ]| Daisy and her cavalier.  
103:187,12@a   | They evidently saw no*one; they were
103:187,13@a   | too deeply occupied with each other.  
103:187,13['  ]| When they reached the
103:187,14['  ]| low garden-wall they stood a moment looking off at the great
103:187,15['  ]| flat-topped pine-clusters of the Villa*Borghese; then Giovanelli
103:187,16['  ]| seated himself familiarly upon the broad ledge of the
103:187,17['  ]| wall.  The western sun in the opposite sky sent out a brilliant
103:187,18['  ]| shaft through a couple of cloud-bars; whereupon Daisy's
103:187,19['  ]| companion took her parasol out of her hands and opened it.
103:187,20['  ]| She came a little nearer and he held the parasol over her; then,
103:187,21['  ]| still holding it, he let it rest upon her shoulder, so that both
103:187,22['  ]| of their heads were hidden from Winterbourne.  This young
103:187,23['  ]| man lingered a moment, then he began to walk.  But he walked
103:187,24['  ]| ~~ not towards the couple with the parasol; towards the residence
103:187,25['  ]| of his aunt, Mrs*Costello.
104:187,26['  ]| He flattered himself on the following day that 
104:187,26@a   | there was no
104:187,27@a   | smiling among the servants when he, at least, asked for Mrs*Miller
104:187,28@a   | at her hotel.  
104:187,28['  ]| This lady and her daughter, however, were
104:187,29['  ]| not at home; and on the next day after, repeating his visit,
104:187,30['  ]| Winterbourne again had the misfortune not to find them.  Mrs*Walker's
104:188,01['  ]| party took place on the evening of the third day,
104:188,02['  ]| and in spite of the frigidity of his last interview with the hostess
104:188,03['  ]| Winterbourne was among the guests.  Mrs*Walker was
104:188,04['  ]| one of those American ladies who, while residing abroad,
104:188,05@x   | make a point, 
104:188,05['  ]| in their own phrase, 
104:188,05@x   | of studying European
104:188,06@x   | society; 
104:188,06['  ]| and she had on this occasion collected several specimens
104:188,07['  ]| of her diversely-born fellow-mortals to serve, as it were,
104:188,08['  ]| as text-books.  When Winterbourne arrived Daisy*Miller was
104:188,09['  ]| not there; but in a few moments he saw her mother come in
104:188,10['  ]| alone, very shyly and ruefully.  Mrs*Miller's hair, above her
104:188,11['  ]| exposed-looking temples, was more frizzled than ever.  As she
104:188,12['  ]| approached Mrs*Walker, Winterbourne also drew near.
104:188,13[E  ]| "You see I've come all alone," 
104:188,13['  ]| said poor Mrs*Miller.  
104:188,13[E  ]| "I'm
104:188,14[E  ]| so frightened; I don't know what to do; it's the first time I've
104:188,15[E  ]| ever been to a party alone ~~ especially in this country.  I
104:188,16[E  ]| wanted to bring Randolph or Eugenio, or some*one, but
104:188,17[E  ]| Daisy pushed me off by myself.  I ain't used to going
104:188,18[E  ]| round alone."
104:188,19[G  ]| "And does not your daughter intend to favour us with her
104:188,20[G  ]| society?"  
104:188,20['  ]| demanded Mrs*Walker, impressively.
104:188,21['  ]| 
104:188,21[E  ]| "Well, Daisy's all dressed," 
104:188,21['  ]| said Mrs*Miller, with that
104:188,22['  ]| accent of the dispassionate, if not of the philosophic, historian
104:188,23['  ]| with which she always recorded the current incidents of her
104:188,24['  ]| daughter's career.  
104:188,24[E  ]| "She got dressed on purpose before dinner.
104:188,25[E  ]| But she's got a friend of hers there; that gentleman ~~ the
104:188,26[E  ]| Italian ~~ that she wanted to bring.  They've got going at the
104:188,27[E  ]| piano; it seems as if they couldn't leave off.  Mr*Giovanelli
104:188,28[E  ]| sings splendidly.  But I guess they'll come before very long,"
104:188,29['  ]| concluded Mrs*Miller hopefully.
104:188,30[G  ]| "I'm sorry she should come ~~ in that way," 
104:188,30['  ]| said Mrs*Walker.
104:188,31[E  ]| "Well, I told her that there was no use in her getting dressed
104:188,32[E  ]| before dinner if she was going to wait three hours," 
104:188,32['  ]| responded
104:188,33['  ]| Daisy's mamma.  
104:188,33[E  ]| "I didn't see the use of her putting on such
104:188,34[E  ]| a dress as that to sit round with Mr*Giovanelli."
104:188,35[G  ]| "This is most horrible!"  
104:188,35['  ]| said Mrs*Walker, turning away
104:189,01['  ]| and addressing herself to Winterbourne.  
104:189,01[G  ]| "\9Elle*s'affiche\.  It's
104:189,02[G  ]| her revenge for my having ventured to remonstrate with her.
104:189,03[G  ]| When she comes I shall not speak to her."
104:189,04['  ]| Daisy came after eleven o'clock, but she was not, on such
104:189,05['  ]| an occasion, a young lady to wait to be spoken to.  She rushed
104:189,06['  ]| forward in radiant loveliness, smiling and chattering, carrying
104:189,07['  ]| a large bouquet and attended by Mr*Giovanelli.  Every*one
104:189,08['  ]| stopped talking, and turned and looked at her.  She came
104:189,09['  ]| straight to Mrs*Walker.  
104:189,09[B  ]| "I'm afraid you thought I never was
104:189,10[B  ]| coming, so I sent mother off to tell you.  I wanted to make
104:189,11[B  ]| Mr*Giovanelli practise some things before he came; you know
104:189,12[B  ]| he sings beautifully, and I want you to ask him to sing.  This
104:189,13[B  ]| is Mr*Giovanelli; you know I introduced him to you; he's got
104:189,14[B  ]| the most lovely voice and he knows the most charming set of
104:189,15[B  ]| songs.  I made him go over them this evening, on purpose; we
104:189,16[B  ]| had the greatest time at the hotel."  
104:189,16['  ]| Of all this Daisy delivered
104:189,17['  ]| herself with the sweetest, brightest audibleness, looking now
104:189,18['  ]| at her hostess and now round the room, while she gave a
104:189,19['  ]| series of little pats, round her shoulders, to the edges of her
104:189,20['  ]| dress.  
104:189,20[B  ]| "Is there any*one I know?"  
104:189,20['  ]| she asked.
104:189,21[G  ]| "I think every*one knows you!"  
104:189,21['  ]| said Mrs*Walker pregnantly,
104:189,22['  ]| and she gave a very cursory greeting to Mr*Giovanelli.
104:189,23['  ]| This gentleman bore himself gallantly.  He smiled and bowed
104:189,24['  ]| and showed his white teeth, he curled his moustaches and
104:189,25['  ]| rolled his eyes, and performed all the proper functions of a
104:189,26['  ]| handsome Italian at an evening party.  He sang, very prettily
104:189,27['  ]| half-a-dozen songs, though Mrs*Walker afterwards declared
104:189,28['  ]| that 
104:189,28@g   | she had been quite unable to find out who asked him.  
104:189,28['  ]| It
104:189,29['  ]| was apparently not Daisy who had given him his orders.
104:189,30['  ]| Daisy sat at a distance from the piano, and though she had
104:189,31['  ]| publicly, as it were, professed a high admiration for his singing,
104:189,32['  ]| talked, not inaudibly, while it was going on.
104:189,33[B  ]| "It's a pity these rooms are so small; we can't dance," 
104:189,33['  ]| she
104:189,34['  ]| said to Winterbourne, as if she had seen him five minutes
104:189,35['  ]| before.
104:190,01[A  ]| "I am not sorry we can't dance," 
104:190,01['  ]| Winterbourne answered;
104:190,02[A  ]| "I don't dance."
104:190,03[B  ]| "Of course you don't dance; you're too stiff," 
104:190,03['  ]| said Miss*Daisy.
104:190,04[B  ]| "I hope you enjoyed your drive with Mrs*Walker."
104:190,05[A  ]| "No, I didn't enjoy it; I preferred walking with you."
104:190,06[B  ]| "We paired off, that was much better," 
104:190,06['  ]| said Daisy.  
104:190,06[B  ]| "But
104:190,07[B  ]| did you ever hear anything so cool as Mrs*Walker's wanting
104:190,08[B  ]| me to get into her carriage and drop poor Mr*Giovanelli; and
104:190,09[B  ]| under the pretext that it was proper?  People have different
104:190,10[B  ]| ideas!  It would have been most unkind; he had been talking
104:190,11[B  ]| about the walk for ten days."
104:190,12[A  ]| "He should not have talked about it at all," 
104:190,12['  ]| said Winterbourne;
104:190,13[A  ]| "he would never have proposed to a young lady of
104:190,14[A  ]| this country to walk about the streets with him."
104:190,15[B  ]| "About the streets?"  
104:190,15['  ]| cried Daisy, with her pretty stare.
104:190,16[B  ]| "Where then would he have proposed to her to walk?  The
104:190,17[B  ]| Pincio is not the streets, either; and I, thank goodness, am
104:190,18[B  ]| not a young lady of this country.  The young ladies of this
104:190,19[B  ]| country have a dreadfully poky time of it, so far as I can learn;
104:190,20[B  ]| I don't see why I should change my habits for \them\."
104:190,21[A  ]| "I am afraid your habits are those of a flirt," 
104:190,21['  ]| said Winterbourne
104:190,22['  ]| gravely.
104:190,23[B  ]| "Of course they are," 
104:190,23['  ]| she cried, giving him her little smiling
104:190,24['  ]| stare again.  
104:190,24[B  ]| "I'm a fearful, frightful flirt!  Did you ever hear
104:190,25[B  ]| of a nice girl that was not?  But I suppose you will tell me now
104:190,26[B  ]| that I am not a nice girl."
104:190,27[A  ]| "You're a very nice girl, but I wish you would flirt with
104:190,28[A  ]| me, and me only," 
104:190,28['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:190,29[B  ]| "Ah!  thank you, thank you very much; you are the last
104:190,30[B  ]| man I should think of flirting with.  As I have had the pleasure
104:190,31[B  ]| of informing you, you are too stiff."
104:190,32[A  ]| "You say that too often," 
104:190,32['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:190,33['  ]| Daisy gave a delighted laugh.  
104:190,33[B  ]| "If I could have the sweet
104:190,34[B  ]| hope of making you angry, I would say it again."
104:190,35[A  ]| "Don't do that; when I am angry I'm stiffer than ever.  But
104:191,01[A  ]| if you won't flirt with me, do cease at least to flirt with your
104:191,02[A  ]| friend at the piano; they don't understand that sort of thing
104:191,03[A  ]| here."
104:191,04[B  ]| "I thought they understood nothing else!"  
104:191,04['  ]| exclaimed
104:191,05['  ]| Daisy.
104:191,06[A  ]| "Not in young unmarried women."
104:191,07[B  ]| "It seems to me much more proper in young unmarried
104:191,08[B  ]| women than in old married ones," 
104:191,08['  ]| Daisy declared.
104:191,09[A  ]| "Well," 
104:191,09['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
104:191,09[A  ]| "when you deal with natives
104:191,10[A  ]| you must go by the custom of the place.  Flirting is a purely
104:191,11[A  ]| American custom; it doesn't exist here. So when you show
104:191,12[A  ]| yourself in public with Mr*Giovanelli and without your
104:191,13[A  ]| mother ~~ "
104:191,14[B  ]| "Gracious!  poor mother!"  
104:191,14['  ]| interposed Daisy.
104:191,15[A  ]| "Though you may be flirting, Mr*Giovanelli is not; he
104:191,16[A  ]| means something else."
104:191,17[B  ]| "He isn't preaching, at any rate," 
104:191,17['  ]| said Daisy with vivacity.
104:191,18[B  ]| "And if you want very much to know, we are neither of us
104:191,19[B  ]| flirting; we are too good friends for that; we are very intimate
104:191,20[B  ]| friends."
104:191,21[A  ]| "Ah!" 
104:191,21['  ]| rejoined Winterbourne, 
104:191,21[A  ]| "if you are in love with
104:191,22[A  ]| each other it is another affair."
104:191,23['  ]| She had allowed him to this point to talk so frankly that
104:191,24['  ]| he had no expectation of shocking her by this ejaculation; but
104:191,25['  ]| she immediately got up, blushing visibly, and leaving him to
104:191,26['  ]| exclaim mentally that 
104:191,26@a   | little American flirts were the queerest
104:191,27@a   | creatures in the world.  
104:191,27[B  ]| "Mr*Giovanelli, at least," 
104:191,27['  ]| she said,
104:191,28['  ]| giving her interlocutor a single glance, 
104:191,28[B  ]| "never says such very
104:191,29[B  ]| disagreeable things to me."
104:191,30['  ]| Winterbourne was bewildered; he stood staring.  Mr*Giovanelli
104:191,31['  ]| had finished singing; he left the piano and came over
104:191,32['  ]| to Daisy.  
104:191,32[H  ]| "Won't you come into the other room and have
104:191,33[H  ]| some tea?"  
104:191,33['  ]| he asked, bending before her with his decorative
104:191,34['  ]| smile.
104:191,35['  ]| Daisy turned to Winterbourne, beginning to smile again.
104:192,01['  ]| He was still more perplexed, for this inconsequent smile made
104:192,02['  ]| nothing clear, though it seemed to prove, indeed, that she had
104:192,03['  ]| a sweetness and softness that reverted instinctively to the
104:192,04['  ]| pardon of offences.  
104:192,04[B  ]| "It has never occurred to Mr*Winterbourne
104:192,05[B  ]| to offer me any tea," 
104:192,05['  ]| she said, with her little tormenting
104:192,06['  ]| manner.
104:192,07[A  ]| "I have offered you advice," 
104:192,07['  ]| Winterbourne rejoined.
104:192,08[B  ]| "I prefer weak tea!"  
104:192,08['  ]| cried Daisy, and she went off with
104:192,09['  ]| the brilliant Giovanelli.  She sat with him in the adjoining
104:192,10['  ]| room, in the embrasure of the window, for the rest of the
104:192,11['  ]| evening.  There was an interesting performance at the piano,
104:192,12['  ]| but neither of these young people gave heed to it.  When
104:192,13['  ]| Daisy came to take leave of Mrs*Walker, this lady conscientiously
104:192,14['  ]| repaired the weakness of which she had been guilty at
104:192,15['  ]| the moment of the young girl's arrival.  She turned her back
104:192,16['  ]| straight upon Miss*Miller and left her to depart with what grace
104:192,17['  ]| she might.  Winterbourne was standing near the door; he saw
104:192,18['  ]| it all.  Daisy turned very pale and looked at her mother, but
104:192,19['  ]| Mrs*Miller was humbly unconscious of any violation of the
104:192,20['  ]| usual social forms.  She appeared, indeed, to have felt an incongruous
104:192,21['  ]| impulse to draw attention to her own striking
104:192,22['  ]| observance of them.  
104:192,22[E  ]| "Good*night, Mrs*Walker," 
104:192,22['  ]| she said;
104:192,23[E  ]| "we've had a beautiful evening.  You see if I let Daisy come to
104:192,24[E  ]| parties without me, I don't want her to go away without me."
104:192,25['  ]| Daisy turned away, looking with a pale, grave face at the
104:192,26['  ]| circle near the door; Winterbourne saw that, 
104:192,26@a   | for the first
104:192,27@a   | moment, she was too much shocked and puzzled even for indignation.
104:192,28['  ]| He on his side was greatly touched.
104:192,29[A  ]| "That was very cruel," 
104:192,29['  ]| he said to Mrs*Walker.
104:192,30[G  ]| "She never enters my drawing-room again," 
104:192,30['  ]| replied his
104:192,31['  ]| hostess.
104:192,32['  ]| Since Winterbourne was not to meet her in Mrs*Walker's
104:192,33['  ]| drawing-room, he went as often as possible to Mrs*Miller's
104:192,34['  ]| hotel.  The ladies were rarely at home, but when he found
104:192,35['  ]| them the devoted Giovanelli was always present.  Very often
104:193,01['  ]| the polished little Roman was in the drawing-room with Daisy
104:193,02['  ]| alone, Mrs*Miller being apparently constantly of the opinion
104:193,03['  ]| that discretion is the better part of surveillance. Winterbourne
104:193,04['  ]| noted, at first with surprise, that 
104:193,04@a   | Daisy on these occasions was
104:193,05@a   | never embarrassed or annoyed by his own entrance; 
104:193,05['  ]| but he
104:193,06['  ]| very presently began to feel that 
104:193,06@a   | she had no more surprises
104:193,07@a   | for him; the unexpected in her behaviour was the only thing
104:193,08@a   | to expect.  
104:193,08['  ]| She showed no displeasure at her \9te^te-a`-te^te\ with
104:193,09['  ]| Giovanelli being interrupted; she could chatter as freshly and
104:193,10['  ]| freely with two gentlemen as with one; there was always in her
104:193,11['  ]| conversation, the same odd mixture of audacity and puerility.
104:193,12['  ]| Winterbourne remarked to himself that 
104:193,12@a   | if she was seriously
104:193,13@a   | interested in Giovanelli it was very singular that she should
104:193,14@a   | not take more trouble to preserve the sanctity of their interviews,
104:193,15['  ]| and he liked her the more for her innocent-looking
104:193,16['  ]| indifference and her apparently inexhaustible good humour.
104:193,17['  ]| He could hardly have said why, but she seemed to him 
104:193,17@a   | a girl
104:193,18@a   | who would never be jealous.  
104:193,18['  ]| At the risk of exciting a somewhat
104:193,19['  ]| derisive smile on the reader's part, I may affirm that
104:193,20['  ]| with regard to the women who had hitherto interested him it
104:193,21['  ]| very often seemed to Winterbourne among the possibilities
104:193,22['  ]| that, given certain contingencies, he should be afraid ~~ literally
104:193,23['  ]| afraid ~~ of these ladies.  He had a pleasant sense that 
104:193,23@a   | he
104:193,24@a   | should never be afraid of Daisy*Miller.  
104:193,24['  ]| It must be added that 
104:193,25['  ]| this sentiment was not altogether flattering to Daisy; it was
104:193,26['  ]| part of his conviction, or rather of his apprehension, that 
104:193,26@a   | she
104:193,27@a   | would prove a very light young person.
104:193,28@a   | But she was evidently very much interested in Giovanelli.
104:193,29@a   | She looked at him whenever he spoke; she was perpetually
104:193,30@a   | telling him to do this and to do that; she was constantly
104:193,31@a   | "chaffing" and abusing him.  She appeared completely to have
104:193,32@a   | forgotten that Winterbourne had said anything to displease
104:193,33@a   | her at Mrs*Walker's little party.  
104:193,33['  ]| One Sunday afternoon,
104:193,34['  ]| having gone to St*Peter's with his aunt, Winterbourne perceived
104:193,35['  ]| Daisy strolling about the great church in company
104:194,01['  ]| with the inevitable Giovanelli.  Presently he pointed out the
104:194,02['  ]| young girl and her cavalier to Mrs*Costello.  This lady looked
104:194,03['  ]| at them a moment through her eyeglass, and then she said:
104:194,04[D  ]| "That's what makes you so pensive in these days, eh?"
104:194,05[A  ]| "I had not the least idea I was pensive," 
104:194,05['  ]| said the young man.
104:194,06[D  ]| "You are very much pre-occupied, you are thinking of
104:194,07[D  ]| something."
104:194,08[A  ]| "And what is it," 
104:194,08['  ]| he asked, 
104:194,08[A  ]| "that you accuse me of thinking
104:194,09[A  ]| of?"
104:194,10[D  ]| "Of that young lady's ~~ Miss*Baker's, Miss*Chandler's ~~
104:194,11[D  ]| what's her name? ~~ Miss*Miller's intrigue with that little
104:194,12[D  ]| barber's block."
104:194,13[A  ]| "Do you call it an intrigue,"  
104:194,13['  ]| Winterbourne asked ~~ 
104:194,13[A  ]| "an
104:194,14[A  ]| affair that goes on with such peculiar publicity?"
104:194,15[D  ]| "That's their folly," 
104:194,15['  ]| said Mrs*Costello, 
104:194,15[D  ]| "it's not their
104:194,16[D  ]| merit."
104:194,17[A  ]| "No," 
104:194,17['  ]| rejoined Winterbourne, with something of that
104:194,18['  ]| pensiveness to which his aunt had alluded.  
104:194,18[A  ]| "I don't believe
104:194,19[A  ]| that there is anything to be called an intrigue."
104:194,20[D  ]| "I have heard a dozen people speak of it; they say she is
104:194,21[D  ]| quite carried away by him."
104:194,22[A  ]| "They are certainly very intimate," 
104:194,22['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:194,23['  ]| Mrs*Costello inspected the young couple again with her
104:194,24['  ]| optical instrument.  
104:194,24[D  ]| "He is very handsome.  One easily sees
104:194,25[D  ]| how it is.  She thinks him the most elegant man in the world,
104:194,26[D  ]| the finest gentleman.  She has never seen anything like him; he
104:194,27[D  ]| is better even than the courier.  It was the courier probably
104:194,28[D  ]| who introduced him, and if he succeeds in marrying the
104:194,29[D  ]| young lady, the courier will come in for a magnificent commission."
104:194,30[D  ]|  
104:194,31[A  ]| "I don't believe she thinks of marrying him," 
104:194,31['  ]| said Winterbourne,
104:194,32[A  ]| "and I don't believe he hopes to marry her."
104:194,33[D  ]| "You may be very sure she thinks of nothing.  She goes on
104:194,34[D  ]| from day to day, from hour to hour, as they did in the Golden*Age.
104:194,35[D  ]| I can imagine nothing more vulgar.  And at the same
104:195,01[D  ]| time,"  
104:195,01['  ]| added Mrs*Costello, 
104:195,01[D  ]| "depend upon it that she may tell
104:195,02[D  ]| you any moment that she is ""engaged."" "
104:195,03[A  ]| "I think that is more than Giovanelli expects," 
104:195,03['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:195,04['  ]|  
104:195,05[D  ]| "Who is Giovanelli?"
104:195,06[A  ]| "The little Italian.  I have asked questions about him and
104:195,07[A  ]| learned something.  He is apparently a perfectly respectable
104:195,08[A  ]| little man.  I believe he is in a small way a \8cavalier*avvocato\.
104:195,09[A  ]| But he doesn't move in what are called the first circles.  I think
104:195,10[A  ]| it is really not absolutely impossible that the courier introduced
104:195,11[A  ]| him.  He is evidently immensely charmed with Miss*Miller.
104:195,12[A  ]| If she thinks him the finest gentleman in the world, he,
104:195,13[A  ]| on his side, has never found himself in personal contact with
104:195,14[A  ]| such splendour, such opulence, such expensiveness, as this
104:195,15[A  ]| young lady's.  And then she must seem to him wonderfully
104:195,16[A  ]| pretty and interesting.  I rather doubt whether he dreams of
104:195,17[A  ]| marrying her.  That must appear to him too impossible a piece
104:195,18[A  ]| of luck.  He has nothing but his handsome face to offer, and
104:195,19[A  ]| there is a substantial Mr*Miller in that mysterious land of
104:195,20[A  ]| dollars.  Giovanelli knows that he hasn't a title to offer.  If he
104:195,21[A  ]| were only a count or a \8marchese\!  He must wonder at his luck
104:195,22[A  ]| at the way they have taken him up."
104:195,23[D  ]| "He accounts for it by his handsome face, and thinks Miss*Miller
104:195,24[D  ]| a young lady \9qui 9se 9passe 9ses 9fantaisies\!"  
104:195,24['  ]| said Mrs*Costello.
104:195,25['  ]| 
104:195,26[A  ]| "It is very true," 
104:195,26['  ]| Winterbourne pursued, 
104:195,26[A  ]| "that Daisy and
104:195,27[A  ]| her mamma have not yet risen to that stage of ~~ what shall I
104:195,28[A  ]| call it? ~~ of culture, at which the idea of catching a count or
104:195,29[A  ]| a \8marchese\ begins.  I believe that they are intellectually incapable
104:195,30[A  ]| of that conception."
104:195,31[D  ]| "Ah!  but the \8cavaliere\ can't believe it,"  
104:195,31['  ]| said Mrs*Costello.
104:195,32['  ]| Of the observation excited by Daisy's "intrigue,"  Winterbourne
104:195,33['  ]| gathered that day at St*Peter's sufficient evidence.  A
104:195,34['  ]| dozen of the American colonists in Rome came to talk with
104:195,35['  ]| Mrs*Costello, who sat on a little portable stool at the base of
104:196,01['  ]| one of the great pilasters.  The vesper-service was going forward
104:196,02['  ]| in splendid chants and organ-tones in the adjacent choir,
104:196,03['  ]| and meanwhile, between Mrs*Costello and her friends, there
104:196,04['  ]| was a great deal said about 
104:196,04@x   | poor little Miss*Miller's going really
104:196,05@x   | "too far."  
104:196,05['  ]| Winterbourne was not pleased with what he
104:196,06['  ]| heard; when, coming out upon the great steps of the
104:196,07['  ]| church, he saw Daisy, who had emerged before him, get into
104:196,08['  ]| an open cab with her accomplice and roll away through the
104:196,09['  ]| cynical streets of Rome, he could not deny to himself that 
104:196,09@a   | she
104:196,10@a   | was going very far indeed.  
104:196,10['  ]| He felt very sorry for her ~~ 
104:196,10@a   | not
104:196,11@a   | exactly that he believed that she had completely lost her head,
104:196,12@a   | but because it was painful to hear so much that was pretty and
104:196,13@a   | undefended and natural assigned to a vulgar place among the
104:196,14@a   | categories of disorder.  
104:196,14['  ]| He made an attempt after this to give
104:196,15['  ]| a hint to Mrs*Miller.  He met one day in the Corso a friend ~~
104:196,16['  ]| a tourist like himself ~~ who had just come out of the Doria*Palace,
104:196,17['  ]| where he had been walking through the beautiful
104:196,18['  ]| gallery.  His friend talked for a moment about the superb
104:196,19['  ]| portrait of Innocent*X, by Velasquez, which hangs in one of
104:196,20['  ]| the cabinets of the palace, and then said, 
104:196,20[W  ]| "And in the same
104:196,21[W  ]| cabinet, by-the-way, I had the pleasure of contemplating a
104:196,22[W  ]| picture of a different kind ~~ that pretty American girl whom
104:196,23[W  ]| you pointed out to me last week."  
104:196,23['  ]| In answer to Winterbourne's
104:196,24['  ]| inquiries, his friend narrated that 
104:196,24@w   | the pretty American
104:196,25@w   | girl ~~ prettier than ever ~~ was seated with a companion in the
104:196,26@w   | secluded nook in which the great papal portrait is enshrined.
104:196,27[A  ]| "Who was her companion?"  
104:196,27['  ]| asked Winterbourne.
104:196,28[W  ]| "A little Italian with a bouquet in his button-hole.  The girl
104:196,29[W  ]| is delightfully pretty, but I thought I understood from you
104:196,30[W  ]| the other day that she was a young lady \9du 9meilleur*monde\."
104:196,31[A  ]| "So she is!"  
104:196,31['  ]| answered Winterbourne; and having assured
104:196,32['  ]| himself that his informant had seen Daisy and her companion
104:196,33['  ]| but five minutes before, he jumped into a cab and went to call
104:196,34['  ]| on Mrs*Miller.  She was at home; but she apologised to him for
104:196,35['  ]| receiving him in Daisy's absence.
104:197,01[E  ]| "She's gone out somewhere with Mr*Giovanelli," 
104:197,01['  ]| said Mrs*Miller.
104:197,02[E  ]| "She's always going round with Mr*Giovanelli."
104:197,03[A  ]| "I have noticed that they are very intimate," 
104:197,03['  ]| Winterbourne
104:197,04['  ]| observed.
104:197,05[E  ]| "Oh!  it seems as if they couldn't live without each other!"
104:197,06['  ]| said Mrs*Miller.  
104:197,06[E  ]| "Well, he's a real gentleman, anyhow.  I keep
104:197,07[E  ]| telling Daisy she's engaged!"
104:197,08[A  ]| "And what does Daisy say?"
104:197,09[E  ]| "Oh, she says she isn't engaged.  But she might as well be!"
104:197,10['  ]| this impartial parent resumed.  
104:197,10[E  ]| "She goes on as if she was.  But
104:197,11[E  ]| I've made Mr*Giovanelli promise to tell me, if \she\ doesn't.  I
104:197,12[E  ]| should want to write to Mr*Miller about it ~~ shouldn't you?"
104:197,13['  ]| Winterbourne replied that 
104:197,13@a   | he certainly should; 
104:197,13['  ]| and the state
104:197,14['  ]| of mind of Daisy's mamma struck him as so unprecedented in
104:197,15['  ]| the annals of parental vigilance that he gave up as utterly
104:197,16['  ]| irrelevant the attempt to place her upon her guard.
104:197,17['  ]| After this Daisy was never at home, and Winterbourne
104:197,18['  ]| ceased to meet her at the houses of their common acquaintance,
104:197,19['  ]| because, as he perceived, these shrewd people had quite
104:197,20['  ]| made up their minds that 
104:197,20@x   | she was going too far.  
104:197,20['  ]| They ceased
104:197,21['  ]| to invite her, and they intimated that 
104:197,21@x   | they desired to express
104:197,22@x   | to observant Europeans the great truth that, though Miss*Daisy*Miller
104:197,23@x   | was a young American lady, her behaviour was
104:197,24@x   | not representative ~~ was regarded by her compatriots as abnormal.
104:197,25['  ]| Winterbourne wondered 
104:197,25@a   | how she felt about all the
104:197,26@a   | cold shoulders that were turned towards her, 
104:197,26['  ]| and sometimes
104:197,27['  ]| it annoyed him to suspect that 
104:197,27@a   | she did not feel at all.  
104:197,27['  ]| He said
104:197,28['  ]| to himself that 
104:197,28@a   | she was too light and childish, too uncultivated
104:197,29@a   | and unreasoning, too provincial, to have reflected upon her
104:197,30@a   | ostracism or even to have perceived it.  
104:197,30['  ]| Then at other moments
104:197,31['  ]| he believed that 
104:197,31@a   | she carried about in her elegant and irresponsible
104:197,32@a   | little organism a defiant, passionate, perfectly observant
104:197,33@a   | consciousness of the impression she produced.  
104:197,33['  ]| He asked himself
104:197,34@a   | whether Daisy's defiance came from the consciousness of
104:197,35@a   | innocence or from her being, essentially, a young person of
104:198,01@a   | the reckless class.  
104:198,01['  ]| It must be admitted that holding oneself to
104:198,02['  ]| a belief in Daisy's "innocence" came to seem to Winterbourne
104:198,03@a   | more and more a matter of fine-spun gallantry.  
104:198,03['  ]| As I
104:198,04['  ]| have already had occasion to relate, he was angry at finding
104:198,05['  ]| himself reduced to chopping logic about this young lady; he
104:198,06['  ]| was vexed at his want of instinctive certitude as to how far her
104:198,07['  ]| eccentricities were generic, national, and how far they were
104:198,08['  ]| personal.  
104:198,08@a   | From either view of them he had somehow missed
104:198,09@a   | her, and now it was too late.  She was "carried away" by Mr*Giovanelli.
104:198,10@a   | 
104:198,11['  ]| A few days after his brief interview with her mother, he
104:198,12['  ]| encountered her in that beautiful abode of flowering desolation
104:198,13['  ]| known as the Palace*of*the*Ca*esars.  The early Roman spring
104:198,14['  ]| had filled the air with bloom and perfume, and the rugged
104:198,15['  ]| surface of the Palatine was muffled with tender verdure.  Daisy
104:198,16['  ]| was strolling along the top of one of those great mounds of
104:198,17['  ]| ruin that are embanked with mossy marble and paved with
104:198,18['  ]| monumental inscriptions.  It seemed to him that 
104:198,18@a   | Rome had
104:198,19@a   | never been so lovely as just then.  
104:198,19['  ]| He stood looking off at the
104:198,20['  ]| enchanting harmony of line and colour that remotely encircles
104:198,21['  ]| the city, inhaling the softly humid odours and feeling the
104:198,22['  ]| freshness of the year and the antiquity of the place reaffirm
104:198,23['  ]| themselves in mysterious interfusion.  It seemed to him also
104:198,24['  ]| that 
104:198,24@a   | Daisy had never looked so pretty; 
104:198,24['  ]| but this had been an
104:198,25['  ]| observation of his whenever he met her.  Giovanelli was at her
104:198,26['  ]| side, and Giovanelli, too, wore an aspect of even unwonted
104:198,27['  ]| brilliancy.
104:198,28[B  ]| "Well," 
104:198,28['  ]| said Daisy, 
104:198,28[B  ]| "I should think you would be lonesome!"
104:198,29[B  ]|
104:198,30[A  ]| "Lonesome?"  
104:198,30['  ]| asked Winterbourne.
104:198,31[B  ]| "You are always going round by yourself.  Can't you get
104:198,32[B  ]| any*one to walk with you?"
104:198,33[A  ]| "I am not so fortunate," 
104:198,33['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
104:198,33[A  ]| "as your
104:198,34[A  ]| companion."
104:198,35['  ]| Giovanelli, from the first, had treated Winterbourne with
104:199,01['  ]| distinguished politeness; he listened with a deferential air to
104:199,02['  ]| his remarks; he laughed, punctiliously, at his pleasantries; he
104:199,03['  ]| seemed disposed to testify to his belief that Winterbourne was
104:199,04['  ]| a superior young man.  He carried himself in no degree like a
104:199,05['  ]| jealous wooer; he had obviously a great deal of tact; he had no
104:199,06['  ]| objection to your expecting a little humility of him.  It even
104:199,07['  ]| seemed to Winterbourne at times that 
104:199,07@a   | Giovanelli would find
104:199,08@a   | a certain mental relief in being able to have a private understanding
104:199,09@a   | with him ~~ to say to him, as an intelligent man, that,
104:199,10@a   | bless you, \he\ knew how extraordinary was this young lady,
104:199,11@a   | and didn't flatter himself with delusive ~~ or at least \too\ delusive
104:199,12@a   | ~~ hopes of matrimony and dollars.  
104:199,12['  ]| On this occasion
104:199,13['  ]| he strolled away from his companion to pluck a sprig of
104:199,14['  ]| almond blossom, which he carefully arranged in his button-hole.
104:199,15['  ]|
104:199,16[B  ]| "I know why you say that," 
104:199,16['  ]| said Daisy, watching Giovanelli.
104:199,17[B  ]| "Because you think I go round too much with \him\!"
104:199,18['  ]| And she nodded at her attendant.
104:199,19[A  ]| "Every*one thinks so ~~ if you care to know," 
104:199,19['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:199,20['  ]|
104:199,21[B  ]| "Of course I care to know!"  
104:199,21['  ]| Daisy exclaimed seriously.
104:199,22[B  ]| "But I don't believe it.  They are only pretending to be
104:199,23[B  ]| shocked.  They don't really care a straw what I do.  Besides, I
104:199,24[B  ]| don't go round so much."
104:199,25[A  ]| "I think you will find they do care.  They will show it ~~
104:199,26[A  ]| disagreeably."
104:199,27['  ]| Daisy looked at him a moment.  
104:199,27[B  ]| "How ~~ disagreeably?"
104:199,28[A  ]| "Haven't you noticed anything?"  
104:199,28['  ]| Winterbourne asked.
104:199,29[B  ]| "I have noticed you.  But I noticed you were as stiff as an
104:199,30[B  ]| umbrella the first time I saw you."
104:199,31[A  ]| "You will find I am not so stiff as several others," 
104:199,31['  ]| said
104:199,32['  ]| Winterbourne, smiling.
104:199,33[B  ]| "How shall I find it?"
104:199,34[A  ]| "By going to see the others."
104:199,35[B  ]| "What will they do to me?"
104:200,01[A  ]| "They will give you the cold shoulder.  Do you know what
104:200,02[A  ]| that means?"
104:200,03['  ]| Daisy was looking at him intently; she began to colour.
104:200,04[B  ]| "Do you mean as Mrs*Walker did the other night?"
104:200,05[A  ]| "Exactly!"  
104:200,05['  ]| said Winterbourne.
104:200,06['  ]| She looked away at Giovanelli, who was decorating himself
104:200,07['  ]| with his almond-blossom.  Then looking back at Winterbourne
104:200,08[B  ]| ~~ "I shouldn't think you would let people be so unkind!"
104:200,09['  ]| she said. 
104:200,10[A  ]| "How can I help it?"  
104:200,10['  ]| he asked.
104:200,11[B  ]| "I should think you would say something."
104:200,12[A  ]| "I do say something;" 
104:200,12['  ]| and he paused a moment.  
104:200,12[A  ]| "I say
104:200,13[A  ]| that your mother tells me that she believes you are engaged."
104:200,14[B  ]| "Well, she does," 
104:200,14['  ]| said Daisy very simply.
104:200,15['  ]| Winterbourne began to laugh.  
104:200,15[A  ]| "And does Randolph believe 
104:200,16[A  ]| it?"  
104:200,16['  ]| he asked.
104:200,17[B  ]| "I guess Randolph doesn't believe anything," 
104:200,17['  ]| said Daisy.
104:200,18['  ]| Randolph's scepticism excited Winterbourne to farther
104:200,19['  ]| hilarity, and he observed that Giovanelli was coming back to
104:200,20['  ]| them.  Daisy, observing it too, addressed herself again to her
104:200,21['  ]| countryman.  
104:200,21[B  ]| "Since you have mentioned it," 
104:200,21['  ]| she said, 
104:200,21[B  ]| "I \am\
104:200,22[B  ]| engaged." 
104:200,22['  ]| ~~ Winterbourne looked at her; he had stopped
104:200,23['  ]| laughing.  
104:200,23[B  ]| "You don't believe it!"  
104:200,23['  ]| she added.
104:200,24['  ]| He was silent a moment; and then, 
104:200,24[A  ]| "Yes, I believe it!"  
104:200,24['  ]| he
104:200,25['  ]| said.
104:200,26[B  ]| "Oh, no, you don't," 
104:200,26['  ]| she answered.  
104:200,26[B  ]| "Well, then ~~ I am
104:200,27[B  ]| not!"
104:200,28['  ]| The young girl and her 8cicerone were on their way to the
104:200,29['  ]| gate of the enclosure, so that Winterbourne, who had but
104:200,30['  ]| lately entered, presently took leave of them.  A week afterwards
104:200,31['  ]| he went to dine at a beautiful villa on the Ca*elian*Hill,
104:200,32['  ]| and, on arriving, dismissed his hired vehicle.  The evening was
104:200,33['  ]| charming, and he promised himself the satisfaction of walking
104:200,34['  ]| home beneath the Arch*of*Constantine and past the vaguely-lighted
104:200,35['  ]| monuments of the Forum.  There was a waning moon
104:201,01['  ]| in the sky, and her radiance was not brilliant, but she was
104:201,02['  ]| veiled in a thin cloud-curtain which seemed to diffuse and
104:201,03['  ]| equalise it.  When, on his return from the villa (it was eleven
104:201,04['  ]| o'clock), Winterbourne approached the dusky circle of the
104:201,05['  ]| Colosseum, it occurred to him, as a lover of the picturesque,
104:201,06['  ]| that 
104:201,06@a   | the interior, in the pale moonshine, would be well worth
104:201,07@a   | a glance.  
104:201,07['  ]| He turned aside and walked to one of the empty
104:201,08['  ]| arches, near which, as he observed, an open carriage ~~ one of
104:201,09['  ]| the little Roman street-cabs ~~ was stationed.  Then he passed
104:201,10['  ]| in among the cavernous shadows of the great structure, and
104:201,11['  ]| emerged upon the clear and silent arena.  The place had never
104:201,12['  ]| seemed to him more impressive.  One-half of the gigantic
104:201,13['  ]| circus was in deep shade; and the other was sleeping in the
104:201,14['  ]| luminous dusk.  As he stood there he began to murmur
104:201,15['  ]| Byron's famous lines, out of "Manfred;" but before he had
104:201,16['  ]| finished his quotation he remembered that if nocturnal mediations
104:201,17['  ]| in the Colosseum are recommended by the poets, they
104:201,18['  ]| are deprecated by the doctors.  The historic atmosphere was
104:201,19['  ]| there, certainly; but the historic atmosphere, scientifically
104:201,20['  ]| considered, was no better than a villanous miasma.  Winterbourne
104:201,21['  ]| walked to the middle of the arena, to take a more
104:201,22['  ]| general glance, intending thereafter to make a hasty retreat.
104:201,23['  ]| The great cross in the centre was covered with shadow; it was
104:201,24['  ]| only as he drew near it that he made it out distinctly.  Then
104:201,25['  ]| he saw that two persons were stationed upon the low steps
104:201,26['  ]| which formed its base.  One of these was a woman, seated; her
104:201,27['  ]| companion was standing in front of her.
104:201,28['  ]| Presently the sound of the woman's voice came to him distinctly
104:201,29['  ]| in the warm night-air.  
104:201,29[B  ]| "Well, he looks at us as one of
104:201,30[B  ]| the old lions or tigers may have looked at the Christian
104:201,31[B  ]| martyrs!"  
104:201,31['  ]| These were the words he heard, in the familiar
104:201,32['  ]| accent of Miss*Daisy*Miller.
104:201,33[H  ]| "Let us hope he is not very hungry," 
104:201,33['  ]| responded the ingenious
104:201,34['  ]| Giovanelli.  
104:201,34[H  ]| "He will have to take me first; you will
104:201,35[H  ]| serve for dessert!"
104:202,01['  ]| Winterbourne stopped, with a sort of horror; and, it must
104:202,02['  ]| be added, with a sort of relief.  It was as if a sudden illumination
104:202,03['  ]| had been flashed upon the ambiguity of Daisy's behaviour
104:202,04['  ]| and the riddle had become easy to read.  
104:202,04@a   | She was a young lady
104:202,05@a   | whom a gentleman need no longer be at pains to respect.  
104:202,05['  ]| He
104:202,06['  ]| stood there looking at her ~~ looking at her companion, and
104:202,07['  ]| not reflecting that though he saw them vaguely, he himself
104:202,08['  ]| must have been more brightly visible.  He felt angry with himself
104:202,09['  ]| that he had bothered so much about the right way of
104:202,10['  ]| regarding Miss*Daisy*Miller.  Then, as he was going to advance
104:202,11['  ]| again, he checked himself; not from the fear that he was doing
104:202,12['  ]| her injustice, but from a sense of the danger of appearing unbecomingly
104:202,13['  ]| exhilarated by this sudden revulsion from cautious
104:202,14['  ]| criticism.  He turned away towards the entrance of the place;
104:202,15['  ]| but as he did so he heard Daisy speak again.
104:202,16[B  ]| "Why, it was Mr*Winterbourne!  He saw me ~~ and he cuts
104:202,17[B  ]| me!"
104:202,18@a   | What a clever little reprobate she was, and how smartly she
104:202,19@a   | played an injured innocence!  But he wouldn't cut her.  
104:202,19['  ]| Winterbourne
104:202,20['  ]| came forward again, and went towards the great cross.
104:202,21['  ]| Daisy had got up; Giovanelli lifted his hat.  Winterbourne had
104:202,22['  ]| now begun to think simply of the craziness, from a sanitary
104:202,23['  ]| point of view, of a delicate young girl lounging away the
104:202,24['  ]| evening in this nest of malaria.  
104:202,24@a   | What if she \were\ a clever little
104:202,25@a   | reprobate?  that was no reason for her dying of the \8perniciosa\.
104:202,26[A  ]| "How long have you been here?"  
104:202,26['  ]| he asked, almost brutally.
104:202,27['  ]| Daisy, lovely in the flattering moonlight, looked at him a
104:202,28['  ]| moment.  Then ~~ 
104:202,28[B  ]| "All the evening," 
104:202,28['  ]| she answered gently ~~
104:202,29[B  ]| "I never saw anything so pretty."
104:202,30[A  ]| "I am afraid," 
104:202,30['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
104:202,30[A  ]| "that you will not think
104:202,31[A  ]| Roman fever very pretty.  This is the way people catch it.  I
104:202,32[A  ]| wonder,"  
104:202,32['  ]| he added, turning to Giovanelli, 
104:202,32[A  ]| "that you, a native
104:202,33[A  ]| Roman, should countenance such a terrible indiscretion."
104:202,34[H  ]| "Ah,"  
104:202,34['  ]| said the handsome native, 
104:202,34[H  ]| "for myself, I am not
104:202,35[H  ]| afraid."
104:203,01[A  ]| "Neither am I ~~ for you!  I am speaking for this young lady."
104:203,02['  ]| Giovanelli lifted his well-shaped eyebrows and showed his
104:203,03['  ]| brilliant teeth.  But he took Winterbourne's rebuke with
104:203,04['  ]| docility.  
104:203,04[H  ]| "I told the Signorina it was a grave indiscretion; but
104:203,05[H  ]| when was the Signorina ever prudent?"
104:203,06[B  ]| "I never was sick, and I don't mean to be!"  
104:203,06['  ]| the Signorina
104:203,07['  ]| declared.  
104:203,07[B  ]| "I don't look like much, but I'm healthy!  I was
104:203,08[B  ]| bound to see the Colosseum by moonlight; I shouldn't have
104:203,09[B  ]| wanted to go home without that; and we have had the most
104:203,10[B  ]| beautiful time, haven't we, Mr*Giovanelli?  If there has been
104:203,11[B  ]| any danger, Eugenio can give me some pills.  He has got some
104:203,12[B  ]| splendid pills."
104:203,13[A  ]| "I should advise you," 
104:203,13['  ]| said Winterbourne, 
104:203,13[A  ]| "to drive home
104:203,14[A  ]| as fast as possible and take one!"
104:203,15[H  ]| "What you say is very wise," 
104:203,15['  ]| Giovanelli rejoined.  
104:203,15[H  ]| "I will
104:203,16[H  ]| go and make sure the carriage is at hand."  
104:203,16['  ]| And he went
104:203,17['  ]| forward rapidly.
104:203,18['  ]| Daisy followed with Winterbourne.  He kept looking at
104:203,19['  ]| her; she seemed not in the least embarrassed.  Winterbourne
104:203,20['  ]| said nothing; Daisy chattered about the beauty of the place.
104:203,21[B  ]| "Well, I \have\ seen the Colosseum by moonlight!"  
104:203,21['  ]| she exclaimed.
104:203,22[B  ]| "That's one good thing."  
104:203,22['  ]| Then, noticing Winterbourne's
104:203,23['  ]| silence, she asked him 
104:203,23@b   | why he didn't speak.  
104:203,23['  ]| He
104:203,24['  ]| made no answer; he only began to laugh.  They passed under
104:203,25['  ]| one of the dark archways; Giovanelli was in front with the
104:203,26['  ]| carriage.  Here Daisy stopped a moment, looking at the young
104:203,27['  ]| American.  
104:203,27[B  ]| "\Did\ you believe I was engaged the other day?"
104:203,28['  ]| she asked.
104:203,29[A  ]| "It doesn't matter what I believed the other day," 
104:203,29['  ]| said
104:203,30['  ]| Winterbourne, still laughing.
104:203,31[B  ]| "Well, what do you believe now?"
104:203,32[A  ]| "I believe that it makes very little difference whether you
104:203,33[A  ]| are engaged or not!"
104:203,34['  ]| He felt the young girl's pretty eyes fixed upon him through
104:203,35['  ]| the thick gloom of the archway; she was apparently going to
104:204,01['  ]| answer.  But Giovanelli hurried her forward.  
104:204,01[H  ]| "Quick, quick,"
104:204,02['  ]| he said; 
104:204,02[H  ]| "if we get in by midnight we are quite safe."
104:204,03['  ]| Daisy took her seat in the carriage, and the fortunate
104:204,04['  ]| Italian placed himself beside her.  
104:204,04[A  ]| "Don't forget Eugenio's
104:204,05[A  ]| pills!"  
104:204,05['  ]| said Winterbourne, as he lifted his hat.
104:204,06[B  ]| "I don't care," 
104:204,06['  ]| said Daisy, in a little strange tone, 
104:204,06[B  ]| "whether
104:204,07[B  ]| I have Roman fever or not!"  
104:204,07['  ]| Upon this the cab-driver cracked
104:204,08['  ]| his whip, and they rolled away over the desultory patches of
104:204,09['  ]| the antique pavement.
104:204,10['  ]| Winterbourne ~~ to do him justice, as it were ~~ mentioned
104:204,11['  ]| to no*one that he had encountered Miss*Miller, at midnight, in
104:204,12['  ]| the Colosseum with a gentleman; but nevertheless, a couple
104:204,13['  ]| of days later, the fact of her having been there under these
104:204,14['  ]| circumstances was known to every member of the little
104:204,15['  ]| American circle, and commented accordingly.  Winterbourne
104:204,16['  ]| reflected that 
104:204,16@a   | they had of course known it at the hotel, and
104:204,17@a   | that, after Daisy's return, there had been an exchange of jokes
104:204,18@a   | between the porter and the cab-driver.  
104:204,18['  ]| But the young man
104:204,19['  ]| was conscious at the same moment that 
104:204,19@a   | it had ceased to be a
104:204,20@a   | matter of serious regret to him that the little American flirt
104:204,21@a   | should be "talked about" by low-minded menials.  
104:204,21['  ]| These
104:204,22['  ]| people, a day or two later, had serious information to give:
104:204,23@x   | the little American flirt was alarmingly ill.  
104:204,23['  ]| Winterbourne,
104:204,24['  ]| when the rumour came to him, immediately went to the hotel
104:204,25['  ]| for more news.  He found that two or three charitable friends
104:204,26['  ]| had preceded him, and that they were being entertained in
104:204,27['  ]| Mrs*Miller's salon by Randolph.
104:204,28[C  ]| "It's going round at night," 
104:204,28['  ]| said Randolph ~~ 
104:204,28[C  ]| "that's what
104:204,29[C  ]| made her sick.  She's always going round at night.  I shouldn't
104:204,30[C  ]| think she'd want to ~~  it's so plaguey dark.  You can't see anything
104:204,31[C  ]| here at night, except when there's a moon.  In America
104:204,32[C  ]| there's always a moon!"  
104:204,32['  ]| Mrs*Miller was invisible; she was
104:204,33['  ]| now, at least, giving her daughter the advantage of her society.
104:204,34['  ]| It was evident that Daisy was dangerously ill.
104:204,35['  ]| Winterbourne went often to ask for news of her, and once
104:205,01['  ]| he saw Mrs*Miller, who, though deeply alarmed, was ~~ rather
104:205,02['  ]| to his surprise ~~ perfectly composed, and, as it appeared, a
104:205,03['  ]| most efficient and judicious nurse.  She talked a good deal
104:205,04['  ]| about Dr*Davis, but Winterbourne paid her the compliment
104:205,05['  ]| of saying to himself that 
104:205,05@a   | she was not, after all, such a monstrous
104:205,06@a   | goose.  
104:205,06[E  ]| "Daisy spoke of you the other day," 
104:205,06['  ]| she said
104:205,07['  ]| to him.  
104:205,07[E  ]| "Half the time she doesn't know what she's saying,
104:205,08[E  ]| but that time I think she did.  She gave me a message; she
104:205,09[E  ]| told me to tell you.  She told me to tell you that 
104:205,09@b   | she never was
104:205,10@b   | engaged to that handsome Italian.  
104:205,10[E  ]| I am sure I am very glad;
104:205,11[E  ]| Mr*Giovanelli hasn't been near us since she was taken ill.  I
104:205,12[E  ]| thought he was so much of a gentleman; but I don't call that
104:205,13[E  ]| very polite!  A lady told me that 
104:205,13@v   | he was afraid I was angry
104:205,14@v   | with him for taking Daisy round at night.  
104:205,14[E  ]| Well, so I am; but
104:205,15[E  ]| I suppose he knows I'm a lady.  I would scorn to scold him.
104:205,16[E  ]| Any*way, she says 
104:205,16@b   | she's not engaged.  
104:205,16[E  ]| I don't know why she
104:205,17[E  ]| wanted you to know; but she said to me three times ~~ 
104:205,17@b   | ""Mind
104:205,18@b   | you tell Mr*Winterbourne.""  
104:205,18[E  ]| And then she told me to ask 
104:205,18@b   | if
104:205,19@b   | you remembered the time you went to that castle in Switzerland.
104:205,20[E  ]| But I said 
104:205,20@e   | I wouldn't give any such messages as that.
104:205,21[E  ]| Only, if she is not engaged, I'm sure I'm glad to know it."
104:205,22['  ]| But, as Winterbourne had said, it mattered very little.  A
104:205,23['  ]| week after this the poor girl died; it had been a terrible case of
104:205,24['  ]| the fever.  Daisy's grave was in the little Protestant cemetery,
104:205,25['  ]| in an angle of the wall of imperial Rome, beneath the cypresses
104:205,26['  ]| and the thick spring-flowers.  Winterbourne stood there beside
104:205,27['  ]| it, with a number of other mourners; a number larger than
104:205,28['  ]| the scandal excited by the young lady's career would have led
104:205,29['  ]| you to expect.  Near him stood Giovanelli, who came nearer
104:205,30['  ]| still before Winterbourne turned away.  Giovanelli was very
104:205,31['  ]| pale; on this occasion he had no flower in his button-hole; he
104:205,32['  ]| seemed to wish to say something.  At last he said, 
104:205,32[H  ]| "She was
104:205,33[H  ]| the most beautiful young lady I ever saw, and the most
104:205,34[H  ]| amiable."  
104:205,34['  ]| And then he added in a moment, 
104:205,34[H  ]| "And she was the
104:205,35[H  ]| most innocent."
104:206,01['  ]| Winterbourne looked at him and presently repeated his
104:206,02['  ]| words, 
104:206,02[A  ]| "And the most innocent?"
104:206,03[H  ]| "The most innocent!"
104:206,04['  ]| Winterbourne felt sore and angry.  
104:206,04[A  ]| "Why the devil," 
104:206,04['  ]| he
104:206,05['  ]| asked, 
104:206,05[A  ]| "did you take her to that fatal place?"
104:206,06['  ]| Mr*Giovanelli's urbanity was apparently imperturbable.  He
104:206,07['  ]| looked on the ground a moment, and then he said, 
104:206,07[H  ]| "For
104:206,08[H  ]| myself, I had no fear; and she wanted to go."
104:206,09[A  ]| "That was no reason!"  
104:206,09['  ]| Winterbourne declared.
104:206,10['  ]| The subtle Roman again dropped his eyes.  
104:206,10[H  ]| "If she had
104:206,11[H  ]| lived, I should have got nothing.  She would never have
104:206,12[H  ]| married me, I am sure."
104:206,13[A  ]| "She would never have married you?"
104:206,14[H  ]| "For a moment I hoped so.  But no.  I am sure."
104:206,15['  ]| Winterbourne listened to him; he stood staring at the raw
104:206,16['  ]| protuberance among the April daisies.  When he turned
104:206,17['  ]| away again Mr*Giovanelli, with his light slow step, had
104:206,18['  ]| retired.
104:206,19['  ]| Winterbourne almost immediately left Rome; but the following
104:206,20['  ]| summer he again met his aunt, Mrs*Costello, at Vevey.
104:206,21['  ]| Mrs*Costello was fond of Vevey.  In the interval Winterbourne
104:206,22['  ]| had often thought of Daisy*Miller and her mystifying manners.
104:206,23['  ]| One day he spoke of her to his aunt ~~ said 
104:206,23@a   | it was on his
104:206,24@a   | conscience that he had done her injustice.
104:206,25[D  ]| "I am sure I don't know," 
104:206,25['  ]| said Mrs*Costello.  
104:206,25[D  ]| "How did
104:206,26[D  ]| your injustice affect her?"
104:206,27[A  ]| "She sent me a message before her death which I didn't
104:206,28[A  ]| understand at the time.  But I have understood it since.  She
104:206,29[A  ]| would have appreciated one's esteem."
104:206,30[D  ]| "Is that a modest way," 
104:206,30['  ]| asked Mrs*Costello, 
104:206,30[D  ]| "of saying
104:206,31[D  ]| that she would have reciprocated one's affection?"
104:206,32['  ]| Winterbourne offered no answer to this question; but he
104:206,33['  ]| presently said, 
104:206,33[A  ]| "You were right in that remark that you made
104:206,34[A  ]| last summer.  I was booked to make a mistake.  I have lived
104:206,35[A  ]| too long in foreign parts."
104:207,01['  ]| Nevertheless, he went back to live at Geneva, whence there
104:207,02['  ]| continue to come the most contradictory accounts of his
104:207,03['  ]| motives of sojourn:  a report that 
104:207,03@x   | he is "studying" hard ~~ 
104:207,03['  ]| an
104:207,04['  ]| intimation that 
104:207,04@x   | he is much interested in a very clever foreign
104:207,05@x   | lady.