PART I At the little town of Vevey , in Switzerland , there is a particularly comfortable hotel .
There are , indeed , many hotels , for the entertainment of tourists is the business of the place , which , as many travelers will remember , is seated upon the edge of a remarkably blue lake -- a lake that it behooves every tourist to visit .
The shore of the lake presents an unbroken array of establishments of this order , of every category , from the “ grand hotel ” of the newest fashion , with a chalk-white front , a hundred balconies , and a dozen flags flying from its roof , to the little Swiss pension of an elder day , with its name inscribed in German-looking lettering upon a pink or yellow wall and an awkward summerhouse in the angle of the garden .
One of the hotels at Vevey , however , is famous , even classical , being distinguished from many of its upstart neighbors by an air both of luxury and of maturity .
In this region , in the month of June , American travelers are extremely numerous ; it may be said , indeed , that Vevey assumes at this period some of the characteristics of an American watering place .
There are sights and sounds which evoke a vision , an echo , of Newport and Saratoga .
There is a flitting hither and thither of “ stylish ” young girls , a rustling of muslin flounces , a rattle of dance music in the morning hours , a sound of high-pitched voices at all times .
You receive an impression of these things at the excellent inn of the “ Trois Couronnes ” and are transported in fancy to the Ocean House or to Congress Hall .
But at the “ Trois Couronnes , ” it must be added , there are other features that are much at variance with these suggestions : neat German waiters , who look like secretaries of legation ; Russian princesses sitting in the garden ; little Polish boys walking about held by the hand , with their governors ; a view of the sunny crest of the Dent du Midi and the picturesque towers of the Castle of Chillon .
I hardly know whether it was the analogies or the differences that were uppermost in the mind of a young American , who , two or three years ago , sat in the garden of the “ Trois Couronnes , ” looking about him , rather idly , at some of the graceful objects I have mentioned .
It was a beautiful summer morning , and in whatever fashion the young American looked at things , they must have seemed to him charming .
He had come from Geneva the day before by the little steamer , to see his aunt , who was staying at the hotel -- Geneva having been for a long time his place of residence .
But his aunt had a headache -- his aunt had almost always a headache -- and now she was shut up in her room , smelling camphor , so that he was at liberty to wander about .
He was some seven-and-twenty years of age ; when his friends spoke of him , they usually said that he was at Geneva “ studying . ”
When his enemies spoke of him , they said -- but , after all , he had no enemies ; he was an extremely amiable fellow , and universally liked .
What I should say is , simply , that when certain persons spoke of him they affirmed that the reason of his spending so much time at Geneva was that he was extremely devoted to a lady who lived there -- a foreign lady -- a person older than himself .
Very few Americans -- indeed , I think none -- had ever seen this lady , about whom there were some singular stories .
But Winterbourne had an old attachment for the little metropolis of Calvinism ; he had been put to school there as a boy , and he had afterward gone to college there -- circumstances which had led to his forming a great many youthful friendships .
Many of these he had kept , and they were a source of great satisfaction to him .
After knocking at his aunt ’s door and learning that she was indisposed , he had taken a walk about the town , and then he had come in to his breakfast .
He had now finished his breakfast ; but he was drinking a small cup of coffee , which had been served to him on a little table in the garden by one of the waiters who looked like an attache .
At last he finished his coffee and lit a cigarette .
Presently a small boy came walking along the path -- an urchin of nine or ten .
The child , who was diminutive for his years , had an aged expression of countenance , a pale complexion , and sharp little features .
He was dressed in knickerbockers , with red stockings , which displayed his poor little spindle-shanks ; he also wore a brilliant red cravat .
He carried in his hand a long alpenstock , the sharp point of which he thrust into everything that he approached -- the flowerbeds , the garden benches , the trains of the ladies ’ dresses .
In front of Winterbourne he paused , looking at him with a pair of bright , penetrating little eyes .
“ Will you give me a lump of sugar ? ”
he asked in a sharp , hard little voice -- a voice immature and yet , somehow , not young .
Winterbourne glanced at the small table near him , on which his coffee service rested , and saw that several morsels of sugar remained .
“ Yes , you may take one , ” he answered ; “ but I do n’t think sugar is good for little boys . ”
This little boy stepped forward and carefully selected three of the coveted fragments , two of which he buried in the pocket of his knickerbockers , depositing the other as promptly in another place .
He poked his alpenstock , lance-fashion , into Winterbourne ’s bench and tried to crack the lump of sugar with his teeth .
“ Oh , blazes ; it ’s har-r-d ! ”
he exclaimed , pronouncing the adjective in a peculiar manner .
Winterbourne had immediately perceived that he might have the honor of claiming him as a fellow countryman .
“ Take care you do n’t hurt your teeth , ” he said , paternally .
“ I have n’t got any teeth to hurt .
They have all come out .
I have only got seven teeth .
My mother counted them last night , and one came out right afterward .
She said she ’d slap me if any more came out .
I ca n’t help it .
It ’s this old Europe .
It ’s the climate that makes them come out .
In America they did n’t come out .
It ’s these hotels . ”
Winterbourne was much amused .
“ If you eat three lumps of sugar , your mother will certainly slap you , ” he said .
“ She ’s got to give me some candy , then , ” rejoined his young interlocutor .
“ I ca n’t get any candy here -- any American candy .
American candy ’s the best candy . ”
“ And are American little boys the best little boys ? ”
asked Winterbourne .
“ I do n’t know .
I ’m an American boy , ” said the child .
“ I see you are one of the best ! ”
laughed Winterbourne .
“ Are you an American man ? ”
pursued this vivacious infant .
And then , on Winterbourne ’s affirmative reply -- “ American men are the best , ” he declared .
His companion thanked him for the compliment , and the child , who had now got astride of his alpenstock , stood looking about him , while he attacked a second lump of sugar .
Winterbourne wondered if he himself had been like this in his infancy , for he had been brought to Europe at about this age .
“ Here comes my sister ! ”
cried the child in a moment .
“ She ’s an American girl . ”
Winterbourne looked along the path and saw a beautiful young lady advancing .
“ American girls are the best girls , ” he said cheerfully to his young companion .
“ My sister ai n’t the best ! ”
the child declared .
“ She ’s always blowing at me . ”
“ I imagine that is your fault , not hers , ” said Winterbourne .
The young lady meanwhile had drawn near .
She was dressed in white muslin , with a hundred frills and flounces , and knots of pale-colored ribbon .
She was bareheaded , but she balanced in her hand a large parasol , with a deep border of embroidery ; and she was strikingly , admirably pretty .
“ How pretty they are ! ”
thought Winterbourne , straightening himself in his seat , as if he were prepared to rise .
The young lady paused in front of his bench , near the parapet of the garden , which overlooked the lake .
The little boy had now converted his alpenstock into a vaulting pole , by the aid of which he was springing about in the gravel and kicking it up not a little .
“ Randolph , ” said the young lady , “ what ARE you doing ? ”
“ I ’m going up the Alps , ” replied Randolph .
“ This is the way ! ”
And he gave another little jump , scattering the pebbles about Winterbourne ’s ears .
“ That ’s the way they come down , ” said Winterbourne .
“ He ’s an American man ! ”
cried Randolph , in his little hard voice .
The young lady gave no heed to this announcement , but looked straight at her brother .
“ Well , I guess you had better be quiet , ” she simply observed .
It seemed to Winterbourne that he had been in a manner presented .
He got up and stepped slowly toward the young girl , throwing away his cigarette .
“ This little boy and I have made acquaintance , ” he said , with great civility .
In Geneva , as he had been perfectly aware , a young man was not at liberty to speak to a young unmarried lady except under certain rarely occurring conditions ; but here at Vevey , what conditions could be better than these ?
-- a pretty American girl coming and standing in front of you in a garden .
This pretty American girl , however , on hearing Winterbourne ’s observation , simply glanced at him ; she then turned her head and looked over the parapet , at the lake and the opposite mountains .
He wondered whether he had gone too far , but he decided that he must advance farther , rather than retreat .
While he was thinking of something else to say , the young lady turned to the little boy again .
“ I should like to know where you got that pole , ” she said .
“ I bought it , ” responded Randolph .
“ You do n’t mean to say you ’re going to take it to Italy ? ”