She stood still at that, looking at him, her blue eyes full of distress
and concern.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she cried. "They would be so sorry to have you
think anything like that."

"But what is it?" her persisted. "Don't they like Americans?"

"Oh, no, it isn't like that--Oh, quite the contrary!" she returned
eagerly.

"Then it's something about me they don't like?"

"Oh, no, no! Least of all, that--_don't_ think that!" she begged.

"But what am I to think then?"

"Don't think anything just yet," she pleaded. "Wait a little, and you
will understand."

She was so evidently distressed that he could not press her further; and
fearing she might think him unappreciative, he said, "Well, whatever it
is, it hasn't prevented me from having a ripping good time. They've seen
to that, and just done everything for my pleasure."

She looked up quickly, and to his relief he saw that for once he had
said the right thing.

"You enjoyed it, then?" she questioned eagerly.