Can you get good teachers in Italy?"

"Very good, I should think," said Winterbourne.

"Or else she's going to find some school. He ought to learn
some more. He's only nine. He's going to college."
And in this way Miss Miller continued to converse upon the affairs
of her family and upon other topics. She sat there with her
extremely pretty hands, ornamented with very brilliant rings,
folded in her lap, and with her pretty eyes now resting upon
those of Winterbourne, now wandering over the garden, the people
who passed by, and the beautiful view. She talked to Winterbourne
as if she had known him a long time. He found it very pleasant.
It was many years since he had heard a young girl talk so much.
It might have been said of this unknown young lady, who had come
and sat down beside him upon a bench, that she chattered.
She was very quiet; she sat in a charming, tranquil attitude;
but her lips and her eyes were constantly moving. She had a soft,
slender, agreeable voice, and her tone was decidedly sociable.
She gave Winterbourne a history of her movements and intentions
and those of her mother and brother, in Europe, and enumerated,
in particular, the various hotels at which they had stopped.
"That English lady in the cars," she said--"Miss Featherstone--
asked me if we didn't all live in hotels in America.
I told her I had never been in so many hotels in my life as since I
came to Europe. I have never seen so many--it's nothing but hotels."
But Miss Miller did not make this remark with a querulous accent;
she appeared to be in the best humor with everything.
She declared that the hotels were very good, when once you
got used to their ways, and that Europe was perfectly sweet.