September, and I never broke a promise yet. So Mr. Ruck has got to
make his plans accordingly."

"And what are his plans?"

"I don't know; he doesn't seem able to make any. His great idea was
to get to Geneva; but now that he has got here he doesn't seem to
care. It's the effect of ill health. He used to be so bright; but
now he is quite subdued. It's about time he should improve, any way.
We went out last night to look at the jewellers' windows--in that
street behind the hotel. I had always heard of those jewellers'
windows. We saw some lovely things, but it didn't seem to rouse
father. He'll get tired of Geneva sooner than he did of Paris."

"Ah," said I, "there are finer things here than the jewellers'
windows. We are very near some of the most beautiful scenery in
Europe."

"I suppose you mean the mountains. Well, we have seen plenty of
mountains at home. We used to go to the mountains every summer. We
are familiar enough with the mountains. Aren't we, mother?" the
young lady demanded, appealing to Mrs. Ruck, who, with her husband,
had drawn near again.

"Aren't we what?" inquired the elder lady.

"Aren't we familiar with the mountains?"

"Well, I hope so," said Mrs. Ruck.