he speak English? French? Or shall I have to struggle in broken Italian?
Is he like Uncle Sandro?"

"Wait until you see him."

"At least tell me does he speak English?"

"He speaks beautiful French."

"Which means, I suppose, that he speaks monkey English!"

But the princess vouchsafed no reply.

"Well, but really, I _do_ think you might tell me something! Is he
attractive?"

The Princess assumed a tantalizing air--"That also I am going to leave
you to find out when you see him. At all events he is young--that is
compared to your uncle and me. It has been dull for you, darling, with
no one your own age."

Nina interrupted her reproachfully. "Don't you dare! To hear you, one
might suppose you were a hundred. I don't care a bit whether Don
Giovanni is a Calaban or an Antinous--All the same," she laughed, "had I
better tidy my hair--or does it not matter?"

The tourists were all filing out of the castle now, and as the porter
locked the doors, the princess shook hands with the little American.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said, "you have been real kind. We--I