Never before in the history of his connection with the Hotel du Lac had Gustavo experienced such a munificent, companionable, expansive, entertaining, thoroughly unique and inexplicable guest.

Even the fact that he was American scarcely accounted for everything.
The young man raised his head and eyed his companion gloomily.
"Gustavo, have you a sister ?" "A sister ?" Gustavo's manner was uncomprehending but patient.

"_Si_, signore, I have eight sister." "Eight! Merciful saints.

How do you manage to be so cheerful ?" "Tree is married, signore, one uvver is betrofed, one is in a convent, one is dead and two is babies." "I see--they're pretty well disposed of; but the babies will grow up, Gustavo, and as for that betrothed one, I should still be a little nervous if I were you; you can never be sure they are going to stay betrothed.

I hope she doesn't spend her time chasing over the map of Europe making appointments with you to meet her in unheard of little mountain villages where the only approach to Christian reading matter is a Paris _Herald_ four days old, and then doesn't turn up to keep her appointments ?" Gustavo blinked.