great advantages of living abroad."

"Oh, I think there are nice people everywhere," said the young man, with
the bold expansion of youth.

"Yes," sighed Mrs. Pasmer. "We saw two such delightful young people
coming in and out of the hotel in Rome. We were sure they were English.
And they were from Chicago! But there are not many Western people at
Campobello, are there?"

"I really don't know," said Mavering. "How is it, Boardman? Do many of
your people go there?"

"You know you do make it so frightfully expensive with your money," said
Mrs. Pasmer, explaining with a prompt effect of having known all along
that Boardman was from the West, "You drive us poor people all away."

"I don't think my money would do it," said Boardman quietly.

"Oh, you wait till you're a Syndicate Correspondent," said, Mavering,
putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, and rising by aid of it. He
left Mrs. Pasmer to fill the chasm that had so suddenly yawned between
her and Boardman; and while she tumbled into every sort of flowery
friendliness and compliment, telling him she should look out for his
account of the race with the greatest interest, and expressing the hope
that he would get as far as Campobello during the summer, Mavering found
some minutes for talk with Alice. He was graver with her--far graver than
with her mother--not only because she was a more serious nature, but
because they were both young, and youth is not free with youth except by
slow and cautious degrees. In that little space of time they talked of